


Sonata for Flute and Piano, op.1185

by asymmetricace



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Linspar, M/M, Pianist Hubert, Trans Ferdinand von Aegir, Trans Male Character, background claurenz, background edelthea, flutist ferdinand von aegir, hubert and edelgard are Good Friends, i dont mean like how they are in canon i mean theyre legitimately friends and she cares about him, ill give it to you plain and simple this is a modern day grad school musician au, lin and cas are also trans, mild and implied sexual content, other members of the cast make smaller appearances, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asymmetricace/pseuds/asymmetricace
Summary: "'No,' he said firmly, locking eyes with Edelgard, 'not him. I won't play for him. Not again.''Hubert.' Edelgard's eyes said she knew this was coming but she protested all the same. 'It's been five years.'"Hubert von Vestra, sole piano accompanist to Edelgard von Hresvelg the Adrestian violin prodigy, knew that there would be some risks in offering his skills to other musicians. He didn't realize that one of these risks would be falling in love with the man he vowed to never accompany again.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 31
Kudos: 114





	1. Exposition, Theme 1

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my incredibly self-indulgent music school au. i started this a long time ago and have been working on it for a while oops. i didn't want to start posting it until i was done and then like. a pandemic happened and shot my motivation. i have seven chapters completed and even if i don't finished the planned three more, i reached a decent stopping point where i would feel comfortable leaving things if i cant write any more.  
> this fic is honestly just me trying to create an ideal hubert and edelgard friendship and send everyone to therapy. but front and center is musician ferdibert. i hope everyone enjoys my very specific and Really Clever I Promise music jokes. i'll be updating the tags as we go  
> this is somewhat beta'd by a couple different people (meaning i threw it at some friends to read), but please let me know if there's anything we didn't catch

It was the third week of the fall semester at St. Seiros University. The weather was pleasant, if not on the delightfully cool side. Hubert von Vestra was practicing piano. It seemed like that was all he did these days as a second year graduate student. If not in class, working on papers, or getting the very little sleep he did get, he was in the practice rooms. Of course, he got his most successful practicing done early in the morning before any self-respecting university student would wake up. His afternoon sessions were unfortunately prone to interruption, as was about to be proven true yet again.

"Hubert," Edelgard called as she gently pushed open the door to his practice room. Hubert couldn't see her yet, but he knew who it was even before she spoke. Edelgard was the only person allowed to enter while he was practicing.

"Is there an urgent matter?" Hubert asked, his hands stilled on the keyboard.

"That depends. Have you looked at the accompanist list yet?" She closed the door behind her and leaned against the side of the piano.

"I have… looked at it. That is to say, I briefly glanced at the email but haven't fully read it yet." Seeing as it wasn't an emergency, Hubert resumed running repeats of the passage he had been working on as he spoke. 

"I might urge you to actually read it, my friend." Edelgard sounded almost hesitant. Never a good sign. 

Hubert stopped in the middle of a phrase and pulled out his phone. He could sense his friend watching his face intently as he accessed the list. Whatever it was she wanted him to see, she was apparently invested in observing his immediate reaction. Unconcerned for the other pianists, Hubert quickly scrolled until he found his name and the group of students he would be accompanying. _Good… No undergraduates…_ Hubert thought, exhaling a small sigh. He'd had his fill of playing for freshman instrumentalists in his first year of grad school and was not looking forward to any opportunity to do it again.

Ah, Bernadetta von Varley was on his list. He remembered her. He’d accompanied the purple-haired clarinetist last semester. It had been a rough start, but Hubert had to admit that she had grown on him by the time her senior recital came around. He was glad to see that she’d been accepted into the graduate program. 

Edelgard's name was still in his group. He shouldn't have expected any different. He had been accompanying her since they were children. His one condition for allowing the university to lend him out to soloists was that he be the only pianist to play with Edelgard von Hresvelg, the Adrestian violin prodigy. So, if Edelgard wasn't looking for him to see the absence of her name, then what—

Then he saw it. The next name. _Ferdinand von Aegir._ Hubert dropped his phone onto the piano keys, sounding a lovely cluster chord. 

"No," he said firmly, locking eyes with Edelgard, "not him. I won't play for him. Not again."

"Hubert." Edelgard's eyes said she knew this was coming but she protested all the same. "It's been five years."

"How did he even get into this graduate program? This one, specifically. Surely he knew we're here," Hubert grumbled, picking his phone back up and staring at the list with murderous intent All the other accompanists had a full load, he couldn’t just pawn Aegir off onto someone else. 

Edelgard came around to his side of the piano and perched herself on the edge of the bench beside him. "Even you can't deny that he's an excellent musician. You knew that even before you played for him the first time. I believe I recall you once saying to me that you'd 'never play for a vocalist and never for a substandard instrumentalist.' Isn't that right, Hubert?"

Hubert said nothing, stewing in the damning silence.

"That's what I thought," Edelgard said with a small smile. "I'm actually surprised we haven't seen him around campus yet. Well, not you, since you live in this practice room. But I thought surely I would have seen him by now. Although, I did hear he's changed a lot since when he was starting undergrad. Maybe we just didn't recognize him."

“I refuse,” Hubert reiterated. “I won’t play for him again. Even if he looks different, he’s doubtlessly still the same self-obsessed brat who thinks he can gain success riding on his father’s coattails. Ridiculous. He’s not even a vocalist, how does he expect—”

He felt a hand hovering just above his shoulder, cutting him off.

“You do remember that his father died last year, don’t you? You were the one who brought the articles about the accident to my attention.” Edelgard took her hand back once she knew Hubert was listening to her. “And after such a long string of scandals… It’s hard to imagine anyone still regards him with the same respect as they did when we knew Ferdinand.”

That was right. Ferdinand’s father, nicknamed “Duke Aegir” by the Adrestian opera community, had been killed in a freak accident after the third night of the previous year’s spring production of _Don Giovanni_. The company had to cancel the remaining performances as the loss of their leading man had shaken his understudy so badly that he couldn’t go on. The poor man was quoted as rambling on about some sort of curse, completely unfounded. And then of course the rest of the Aegir scandals had come to light. It had already been known that Duke Aegir had never been faithful in marriage. It was practically common knowledge. Ferdinand’s mother had been his most recent wife, but even she was gone before the boy had graduated high school. Duke Aegir was weak for women. However, after the man’s death, women were coming forward and claiming to have borne his illegitimate children. And there were other tales; stories of scandalous parties and events, of drugs and excessive alcohol. It was impossible to tell the extent to which any were true, but none of them needed to be to taint the man’s memory. To use a modern term, as Edelgard constantly encouraged Hubert to do, Duke Aegir had been cancelled instantly. Hubert couldn’t believe he had almost forgotten about the debacle. 

Granted, Ferdinand didn’t seem like the womanizing type. But he was still much too sure of himself, tragic family decline aside. 

None of this made Hubert feel better about this situation. 

“Edelgard, please—”

The white-haired violinist fixed him with a stare that reminded him far too much of his therapist. “Hubert, I want you to think about what you’re about to ask of me.” And now she _sounded_ far too much like his therapist. 

Of course, she had a point. As he stared at his gloved hands in contemplation, he realized that once he knew he couldn’t avoid the situation, he’d begun trying to get Edelgard to order him to comply. He’d immediately regressed to the state of mind where if he thought he was doing something for Edelgard’s benefit he would do it without argument. He gritted his teeth and made a mental note to bring this up at his next appointment.

“My apologies,” Hubert sighed, still looking down. “It was unfair of me to try to put you in that position.” 

He knew Edelgard was giving him a dissatisfied expression without even seeing her face. She didn’t challenge his response but she obviously wasn’t fond of it. Well, Hubert wasn’t fond of the energy in his practice room. He had work to do. He was the guest soloist at the next orchestra performance and this concerto wasn’t going to learn itself. He raised his hands back to the piano and rested his fingers on the keys.

“...May I continue or is there more you wanted to discuss?” he asked, mostly to be polite.

Edelgard took her cue and stood. “No, that was all. I would ask you to let me know how the first rehearsal goes, but I know I’ll be hearing from you as soon as it’s over. I have dinner with Dorothea tonight so I’m afraid I won’t be able to dine with you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Hubert just nodded and went back to practicing. He heard the practice room door open and close. Edelgard leaving didn’t fix the energy in the room. The weight of the air was nearly unbearable. He played a wrong note. He started again at the beginning of the first movement. His shoulders felt heavy. His mind kept drifting back to that damned email, Ferdinand von Aegir’s name shining like a neon sign in the midst of a migraine. He played a wrong chord. He hadn’t even made it back to the section where he had messed up before. He swore. Back to the beginning. Two lines in, his fingers slipped. Hubert snarled, slamming the lid of the piano shut.

He’d never accomplish anything productive in this kind of mood. He’d have to finish practicing later when he could think of things that wouldn’t enrage him. Gathering his belongings, he left his practice room and stalked off towards the lobby of the music building. After a moment of consideration he sat in a plush chair in the corner and shot off a quick text to Edelgard.

**Hubert [5:23 PM]:** Do you think Dorothea might have some information on the Aegir brat? She is closely tied to the company Duke A. performed with.

 **Lady Edelgard [5:24 PM]:** I don't think she was ever too close with the family, but I can ask her, if it helps you.

 **Hubert [5:24 PM]:** I would like to know what she knows.

 **Lady Edelgard [5:25 PM]:** All right, I'll bring it up.

 **Lady Edelgard [5:25 PM]:** Might I suggest you go do something that will take your mind off this unpleasantness?

Hubert sighed and slid his phone back into his pocket. Maybe he’d go home and enjoy a nice cup of coffee, perhaps read a bit. Well, he’d only be able to read in peace if his roommates weren’t home. Hubert wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of having roommates, plural, at all but it became a necessity. He used to share an apartment with Edelgard, but after last semester his therapist had suggested that it might be better for him if he and Edelgard didn’t live together. So, Edelgard moved in with her girlfriend Dorothea and Hubert was left to shoulder rent for their _very_ nice apartment himself. The wisest financial choice was to find a roommate. Hubert was not famous for his wealth of friends, rather the opposite, so when he heard that one of the seniors he was accompanying had gotten into the graduate program and was looking for a place to live, Hubert took his chances. He had known the risks. Linhardt von Hevring was very skilled on the French horn, when he bothered to actually practice. He was also notoriously lazy. Still, he came from wealth and had a fairly nice job in the campus library so he’d be able to pay rent. It was a calculated risk. 

What Hubert hadn’t factored in was Linhardt’s boyfriend. Hubert had never played piano for Caspar von Bergliez and he was very appreciative of the fact. From what he’d heard, Caspar was quite the talented euphonium player, but he was quite possibly the dumbest man Hubert had ever met. He may not have exactly been stupid, but he was certainly an idiot. And he had stayed over at the apartment nearly every night for the first month. It had been ridiculous. Hubert had eventually told the blue-haired boy to either stop showing up so often or to start paying rent. So the next day Caspar had shown up with his luggage and a check for five percent of the monthly rent. Hubert had been too baffled to refuse.

Actually, if his roommates were home, it might not be the end of the world. Linhardt and Caspar had grown up near Edelgard and Hubert and, by extension, Ferdinand von Aegir. They might know something about him. Asking them about him would be the opposite of what Edelgard had advised him to do, but if the two were home there was no way he could get anything relaxing done. 

And, lo and behold, there the two men were, cuddled up on the couch in front of the TV. Linhardt looked to be asleep as he usually was while Caspar was strewn across him with his head on the other’s chest. The position looked in no way comfortable but Hubert was honestly just glad they were both dressed. Caspar in particular like to parade around without a shirt and only Hubert had the sense to be embarrassed about the level of nudity. 

“Hey! Hubert! Welcome home!” Caspar nearly yelled when he noticed the black-haired man enter the room. This outburst earned him a gentle smack from the man he was using as a mattress. So, Linhardt was awake after all. 

“Caspar, Linhardt,” Hubert said evenly, nodding toward each of them in turn. 

“You’re home early,” Linhardt yawned, glancing at the clock. “It’s still light out. I thought you dissolved in sunlight.” 

Hubert didn’t humor him with a response and simply sat down in the armchair diagonal to the couch and set his bag on the floor next to him. He crossed his legs and folded his hands over one knee before looking at his roommates again. “I have a question for you both.”

Linhardt closed his eyes. “Uh oh, are we in trouble?”

“Remarkably, no.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Linhardt exhaled. He started lazily running his fingers through Caspar’s hair. At least he wasn’t going back to sleep.

“What did you wanna ask us, Hubert? It’s not often one of us has an answer you don’t,” Caspar prompted.

Hubert leaned forward in his chair, bringing his hands up to his chin. “What do you know about Ferdinand von Aegir?” 

“Ferdinand?” Linhardt sat up and Caspar fell into his lap with a squawk. “Why do you care if we know anything about him?”

Caspar pushed himself up, lightly shoving his boyfriend as he moved. “Oh, him? I didn’t think he was your type, but I guess they say that opposites attract!” 

“No, you fool, that’s nowhere close to it,” Hubert sighed exasperatedly. “His name is on my list of students to accompany. The last time I played for the brat was five years ago. I was hoping he’s different now. I take it from your responses that you two know him.”

Caspar and Linhardt shared a look.

“Well,” Linhardt started, “you know how Caspar is kind of stupid but in an endearing way? Ferdinand’s kind of like that. I wouldn’t say he’s dumb, but… Eh, he’s a bit of a himbo. I knew him in high school too. I think he’s mellowed out. Can’t say for certain, though. Been a while since we've talked.” 

Caspar nodded. “He’s still got a bit of an ego, but Lin’s right. Ferdinand took a year off after his dad died to get some shit in order, which is understandable.”

“‘Some shit,’ he says,” Linhardt laughed, “like he doesn’t mean the Aegir family affairs…” 

“Anyway,” Caspar announced, “he just graduated at the same time as us. We haven’t interacted with him that much recently, ‘cuz he went to a different university for undergrad and all.”

“Speak for yourself. He chased me around the practice rooms when he visited the campus, because I wasn’t rehearsing when I ‘should have been.’” Linhardt frowned. “Oh! And we saw him at auditions. He grew his hair out. It suits him.”

Some of this was helpful. Linhardt and Caspar were never entirely helpful so, really, this was a success. Hubert now had a list of things he knew about Ferdinand von Aegir. He knew that the man was at least a bit calmer than he had been, that he was a himbo (whatever that meant. He’d have to ask Edelgard), and that he had longer hair now. He also knew the man’s email thanks to the accompanist list. Admittedly it wasn’t a lot to go off of. Hubert hoped that Dorothea would be able to shed more light on the situation. 

Caspar spoke up again as Hubert was trying to dig into the depths of his memory to see if he knew _anything_ else.

“Actually, now that I think about it, you and Ferdinand might be a good fit for each other,” Caspar said thoughtfully.

“Oh, in like a sun and moon kind of way. You’re right,” Linhardt agreed.

Hubert had heard enough. “This is getting ridiculous. Thank you for what very little information you had. I’d appreciate it if you two didn’t try to involve yourselves in my personal life.” He stood and grabbed his bag before heading towards his room.

“Bro, we live with you!” Caspar called after him.

Hubert felt no need to respond so he simply entered his room and shut his door. It briefly crossed his mind that he should have grabbed something to eat on his way in. Oh well. He could find food after his roommates had gone to bed. For now he grabbed the book that he was halfway through and sat down to read. Maybe the whole “getting his mind off things” idea would work for a bit. 

Regardless of whether he was still thinking or not, Hubert read until he felt his phone vibrate. Then it vibrated again. When he picked the device up, he was surprised at how much time had passed. More important than the passage of time, he had multiple texts from Edelgard. 

**Lady Edelgard [8:47 PM]:** I asked Dorothea about Ferdinand. I assume you’d like to hear what she had to say.

 **Lady Edelgard [8:48 PM]:** I’ll take your lack of immediate response to mean you accepted my advice and are keeping yourself busy. I’ll text you what she said.

 **Lady Edelgard [8:50 PM]:** When I asked Dorothea if she knew Ferdinand, she said, and I quote: “Oh, that bitch? I hate him.” This does not bode well for our theory that he has changed. However, she did add that they haven’t spoken in a while.

 **Lady Edelgard [8:52 PM]:** She says the main reasons she hates him are for things we already know of. She said it was because he was arrogant and didn’t seem conscious of the fact that all of his accomplishments had been because of his father’s merit and not his own. She admitted that he was a talented player but argued that his playing just wasn’t distinct in any way. She said she’s heard that he’s gotten a lot better but that’s all she can vouch for in “anything that would make him more tolerable” (her words).

 **Hubert [8:53 PM]:** So it’s likely he’s still a prick. Marvelous. 

**Lady Edelgard [8:53 PM]:** I’m sorry, Hubert. Hopefully he won’t be insufferable. 

**Hubert [8:54 PM]:** That seems unlikely. Oh well. Thank Dorothea for her information for me.

 **Lady Edelgard [8:54 PM]:** I will. Good night, Hubert. Please sleep.

 **Hubert [8:55 PM]:** I make no promises. Good night, Edelgard. 

He certainly didn’t get as much sleep as Edelgard might have hoped for him. Hubert finished the chapter he had been reading when he was interrupted by his phone and then went out to the kitchen to make himself a meal. He ate quickly and quietly before returning to his room to shower. As he washed, Hubert focused on the feeling of the water hitting his skin so that he didn’t get lost in his own thoughts and wind up standing under the faucet for hours on end. Still, it was nearing midnight by the time he laid down in his bed. And even then he did not sleep. 

Hubert laid awake well into the night, trying to figure out why this whole ordeal was affecting him so much. He’d dealt with less-than-savory instrumentalists before. This should be no problem. And yet…

His mind kept drifting back to the memory of when they last played together.

_Hubert and Edelgard were college freshmen. That was significant in their relationship at that point because while Hubert had graduated high school a few years earlier, he had waited for his Lady to catch up in school so that they would not be separated. It had not previously been an issue as the private school they attended taught all grades. Ferdinand von Aegir had attended this school. Linhardt and Caspar had transferred in when they were teenagers. It was only natural. The Garreg Mach School for the Arts was the only place for prestigious young musicians to be educated._

_Yes, it was Hubert’s first year of undergrad where he truly crossed paths with Ferdinand. Hubert had briefly encountered him during grade school, but he scarcely remembered those moments and to truly experience him was another thing entirely. That was the semester where Edelgard had suggested Hubert take on other performers as an accompanist, to broaden his horizons, she'd said. He accepted her words as law, as he always did then, and began allowing others to hire him. Ferdinand von Aegir had reached out to Hubert himself. He'd said he was entering a concerto competition that he was sure to win and he needed an accompanist of the highest caliber to make sure this happened. Ego appropriately stroked, Hubert had agreed._

_He regarded it as the biggest mistake he had ever made._

_When the two met for their first rehearsal, Ferdinand appeared perfectly pleasant. His appearance was also perfectly pleasant. The boy certainly dressed the part of someone who expected a competition to be handed to him. He was youthful but not overly so, his ginger hair styled neatly and his tan face dotted with freckles. Hubert had high hopes until Ferdinand had opened his mouth. The pianist had barely crossed the threshold of the room when a nearly booming voice greeted him._

_"I am Ferdinand von Aegir!" Ferdinand had called in lieu of a greeting. "And you must be Hubert von Vestra. I have heard wonderful praise of your abilities and I must admit that I have attended several of the performances you and Edelgard have put on. Rest assured, however, that you will be far more impressed with me even during this short rehearsal than you have ever felt while playing for Edelgard!"_

_Hubert couldn't help himself. He scoffed loudly. "You clearly cannot be trusted to measure your own abilities if you think that."_

_"But it is true! I am the most talented musician to have come from Garreg Mach, even more talented than Edelgard!" Ferdinand had seemed even more sure of himself every time he repeated these baseless claims. Hubert was already annoyed with him and they'd barely just met._

_The rehearsal proceeded with little further exchange between the musicians. Hubert had taken his seat at the piano in silence and they began the piece without much time for Ferdinand to say anything else. However, once they had finished Hubert could restrain himself no longer._

_"You're not terrible, I suppose. I'll play for you as long as your father pays me," Hubert said as he stood and gathered his belongings. "Though I would hesitate to compare myself to a prodigy if I were you."_

_Ferdinand made some sound that Hubert could only interpret as startled embarrassment. Good. That would teach him to run his mouth. Or so Hubert hoped. Instead, the redhead nearly exploded._

_“How… How dare you! I am ‘not terrible?’ Is that truly the highest praise you can think to offer?! This is the first time I have played for you and it is not like I have had enough time to go through my proper warm-up routine! And what should a pianist know about the proper playing of a flute? It is very rude of you to assume that you are more knowledgeable about my instrument than I am!”_

_Hubert had just stared at him for a moment._ Remarkable, _he thought,_ he is completely unaware of his own shortcomings. _He’d expected some ego when he learned Ferdinand was a flutist but this was beyond what he had been prepared for. He’d been ready for a haughty “I’m the best and you will know it” attitude. He nearly laughed when the boy had practically said the words aloud._

_“Well?!” Ferdinand prompted, his face red. It might have been an endearing look if the whole situation wasn’t so annoying._

_“I know enough to be able to tell you that your vibrato is incredibly superfluous.” Hubert couldn’t help the sneer that creeped into his voice. “And while your dynamic contrast is adequate, your articulations are much too harsh.”_

_Ferdinand snorted out a puff of air through his nose. “Well, you are far too metronomic! You will never accompany an instrumentalist well if you insist on maintaining your tempo so rigidly!”_

_“I have been playing with Lady Edelgard since the beginning.” Hubert rose to his full height. In retrospect, he was embarrassed at how quickly the jab had riled him up. Ferdinand had been right and Hubert had indeed worked very diligently to become more flexible and stylistic even while not playing a solo. But in that moment Hubert was furious that this eighteen year old flutist had the nerve to critique his playing._

_“Yes, I know, and I meant precisely what I said.” Ferdinand assumed a posture that suggested he might have folded his arms over his chest if he wasn’t currently holding his flute._

_Hubert approached, looming over the boy. “I would watch your mouth if I were you, Aegir. Your daddy can’t protect you in a practice room.”_

_Ferdinand snarled, a surprisingly animalistic sound from him, before turning on his heels and storming out. The door slammed shut behind him._

_Hubert smirked. He knew he’d never be able to stand that brat but he also knew that the Aegir family would pay well. They_ did _want the very best accompanist for their perfect little flutist. Hubert would just have to refrain from killing Ferdinand before the competition._

Hubert sighed and picked up his phone to absentmindedly scroll through Twitter but the clock caught his eyes. It was four in the morning. He wasn’t sure if he had drifted off and dreamt of the memory or if he had just spent too much time wading through his own mind. Either way, he had class at nine. Hubert set an alarm for six. That would give him time to make coffee, squeeze in a quick practice session, and get a second coffee from the campus café before his class began. It wasn’t the least amount of rest he’d ever gotten. He would survive. 

He rolled over, shoving his face in his pillow, and allowed himself to succumb to sleep. 

He dreamt of ivory keys and silver tubing. 


	2. Exposition, Theme 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> does it count as love at first sight if you haven't seen each other in five years?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello welcome back! sorry if the update schedule is a little sporadic rn im trying to figure out what works best  
> anyway we get to see some more familiar faces this chapter! the perspective shift in this one makes it a little less linear than chapter one, so i hope everything comes across clearly
> 
> let's get into it!

Hubert was halfway done with the travel mug of coffee he’d prepared by the time he arrived at the practice rooms. He should have made another cup. He’d have to ration what little of the beverage he had left until he could get to the coffee shop. With thoughts of caffeine on his mind, Hubert entered the music building and took the elevator down to the practice rooms. He was too tired to bother with the stairs. When the elevator doors opened, he was more than ready to greet the eerie silence of an early morning in the basement. What happened was… not quite that. 

When Hubert stepped out of the elevator he was met with _music._ The sound of a flute being played marvelously, to be exact. The instrumental practice rooms were closer to the elevator so he supposed it made sense. But he’d never heard anyone other than Edelgard play in such a way that captivated his attention, and this was just the bit of sound that escaped the small room. 

He had to know who was playing.

Hubert followed the dulcet tones down the instrumental practice room hall, though all he really needed to do was look for the one room with a light on. There was usually no one else who cared to practice so early. Hubert passed dark window after dark window and was beginning to worry that he might be hallucinating before he noticed the very last room. Hubert stopped before he passed by the window in the door and leaned over just enough to see in without being seen. But when he saw the flutist he couldn’t help but move in closer.

The man was standing with his back to the door with his music stand raised to just the right height for Hubert to be able to see his face in the wall mirror’s reflection. And… 

He was _beautiful._

Hubert had never thought he was influenced much by the physical traits of others, but he couldn’t help but stare at this man. He was easily the loveliest man Hubert had ever laid eyes on. His ginger hair fell in loose curls down to the middle of his back and only highlighted his sturdy shoulders. He had more muscle than Hubert thought any musician had any business having, honestly. Even though his arms and legs were covered, Hubert could tell that his limbs were powerful. That wasn’t to say that he cut a particularly intimidating figure, rather he was still fairly slim, all that muscle considered. 

And by the gods was Hubert considering all that muscle.

Still, the man’s face wasn’t to be ignored either. His tan skin was lightly dusted with freckles, giving him the most marvelous complexion. His orange eyes (or were they a very light brown or hazel? The lighting made it hard to tell) were focused deeply on the pages in front of them, his long eyelashes only occasionally brushing his high cheeks as he blinked.

To say that Hubert was enraptured would be an understatement. People often accused him of being in love with Edelgard, but he knew now more than ever that he certainly was not and never had been. He'd never felt this way before. His face felt hot just from observing the man's appearance. The man's _lovely_ appearance, with his—

Wait.

Hubert had seen those eyes before. Those eyes in combination with that tan skin and those freckles. And the hair was unmistakably his too. Linhardt _had_ said he'd grown it out.

Yes. There could be no mistaking it.

This was Ferdinand von Aegir. 

The music stopped. Ferdinand lowered his flute and glanced up. Hubert disappeared from the door and pressed himself against the wall, out of sight. He tried to calm his breathing, irritated that he'd lost control of it in the first place. He needed to get out of there before Ferdinand opened the door to investigate. 

Hubert didn't run, but it would be accurate to say that he didn't _not_ run as he vacated the instrumental practice hall. Once safely around the corner he collected himself, taking a long sip of his coffee. He would be fine. He _was_ fine. It wasn't like the brat he'd been preparing to deal with was actually a strikingly handsome man or anything. This was one of the few moments in Hubert's life where he would admit he didn't know what to do. He would surely have to discuss the new development in the Ferdinand issue with Edelgard, but that would have to wait. He had class. He needed to practice. 

_He needed to practice._

Ferdinand wasn't the only one who'd improved over the last five years. Hubert had also finely honed his craft and was now a much more well-rounded musician. And if Ferdinand was going to take advantage of the practice rooms' poor soundproofing to show off, as he was surely intending, Hubert could too.

Just to ensure his plan was effective, Hubert left his room's door open the tiniest crack. He didn't typically like practicing where others could clearly hear him, which was why he preferred to practice at odd times. He liked to operate in the shadows, honestly, but being Edelgard's sole accompanist had forced him into a spotlight. He liked his privacy wherever he could get it. The only thing more important than his need for solitude at this point was his ego. For once, he would purposefully show off. 

Hubert sped through an abbreviated version of his warm-up routine before pulling out a sonata he'd worked on the previous semester. He had continued working on the piece through the summer so it was still performance-ready, if not better than when he performed it. And he liked to start his early practice sessions with something familiar, a piece his fingers could breeze through with little thought to the particulars. The only downside to this method was that if he wasn't careful he would become too engrossed in the piece he didn't even need to rehearse. Which was precisely what happened with the sonata. Before Hubert realized it, he had played through every movement of the piece, forgetting entirely that he was supposed to be checking if he was being watched. 

He turned and cast a quick glance out the window, disguising the motion as he picked up his coffee mug and took a long drink. If there was anyone out there, they’d gotten out of the way too quickly for Hubert to see them. 

Oh well. Hubert needed to focus on actually practicing anyway. He didn’t have time to waste trying to catch someone who he’d baited into spying on him. He put the sonata away and pulled out the concerto he was working on. 

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Hubert and Edelgard had eaten lunch together every day for roughly fifteen years, and their graduate studies hadn’t changed that. However, their lunches had grown to include Dorothea once she and Edelgard had started dating. That was something that Hubert had needed time and an especially intensive therapy session to come to terms with. He had already gotten to the point where he knew he couldn’t monopolize Edelgard’s time but actually confronting that reality was more difficult. But as he got to know Dorothea, he felt comfortable letting her occupy more and more of Edelgard’s life. So, Dorothea joined them on most of their lunches now, as she was currently doing. She was talking to Edelgard about some new coffee shop that she wanted to go to.

Meanwhile, Hubert was in agony over whether or not to mention the events of that morning to Edelgard. He noticed the lull in conversation too late.

“Hubie, are you ok? You’re kind of just glaring at the table,” Dorothea said, leaning over to tap his shoulder.

Hubert straightened his posture. “I’m fine.”

“Looks like someone didn’t get as much sleep as he said he would,” Edelgard said with a teasing scowl. “Have there been any developments on the Ferdinand front?”

The black-haired pianist nearly laughed. It seems Edelgard knew the workings of his mind as if they were written on his face.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry you’ll have to deal with dear old Ferdie. He was absolutely insufferable in grade school.” Dorothea frowned.

“I’m well aware,” Hubert said. If Ferdinand had been _like that_ in college, he could only have been worse when he was younger. 

“Well, did you learn anything else?” Edelgard prompted.

“I spoke with Linhardt and Caspar last night. They seem to believe that he mellowed out after the death of his father. They say he took a year off because of it.” They hadn’t said he was gorgeous. They hadn’t said that he’d become a phenomenal flutist. They hadn’t warned Hubert that he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about the man as soon as he saw him. 

“Is that all?” Dorothea asked.

Hubert hesitated. “...I heard someone practicing flute this morning, but I can’t say for certain that it was him.” Not entirely a lie. He knew in his gut that it was Ferdinand von Aegir, but without actual confirmation he could still deny it. 

“Could it have been Lorenz?” Dorothea suggested.

“No, I’d recognize his pompous playing anywhere,” Hubert said, shaking his head.

“I think Claude told me Lorenz was spending the night with him anyway,” Edelgard added. “He wouldn’t be practicing that early.”

Edelgard and Dorothea broke off into gossip about Claude and Lorenz’s blossoming relationship. Hubert was distracted by the buzz of his phone. He picked the device up off the table and saw that he had an email. Not unusual. He often communicated through emails. He opened his mail app and…

It was an email from Ferdinand von Aegir, speak of the beautiful devil.

_Good afternoon, Mr. Vestra,_ it read. Curiously polite.

_First of all, hello! I am Ferdinand von Aegir, a first year graduate flutist. I look forward to working with you as my accompanist. I have heard great tales of your achievements and quite admire your skills. If it is not too much of a hassle, I would like to compare schedules so we might be able to find a time to have a first rehearsal. Or, perhaps just to get together to meet. There is no rush; I know you are a busy man._

_Sincerely,_

_-Ferdinand von Aegir_

So, he was going to pretend as though he didn’t know Hubert. That ruse could only last so long. Hubert had every intention of making sure Ferdinand remembered those horrible rehearsals and that dreadful competition. 

“Hubert,” Edelgard said, sounding mildly concerned, “is something the matter?”

“You’ve got a plotting look on,” Dorothea offered as evidence for Edelgard’s case.

Hubert showed them his phone screen. “It seems I’ve gotten an email from the man himself. He’s made the first move.”

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Ferdinand von Aegir did not like practicing where others could hear him. That had not always been the case. In his youth he had thrived on others complimenting how lovely he sounded in the practice room. The attitude of that boy seemed like a distant memory now. This Ferdinand much preferred to rise early in the morning and get his practice sessions done before the music building was populated. And so there he was on that morning, using the second movement of the Taktakishvili sonata as a warm-up.

However, as he approached the end of the piece, Ferdinand felt that someone was watching him. It was not the same feeling as when he used to hope that someone was secretly observing him. Still, he managed to ignore the prickling at the back of his neck until he finished the last note. As he turned toward the door, he thought he saw a flash of a black coat. Odd. It wasn’t an especially cool day. 

Ferdinand sighed. The urge to investigate was strong, but he knew he needed to practice. He had not played nearly as much as he should have over the summer. He sighed again and dug through his bag for the piece he was to begin working on.

Time passed, and Ferdinand was not particularly concerned with how much. Once he finished the work he needed to do, he cleaned and packed up his flute with care. As he went to leave, though, something strange occurred. 

He had barely stepped out of the practice room when the sound of a piano reached his ears. And it was an absolutely lovely sound. He had to find out who was playing.

Ferdinand made his way through the halls, following his ears primarily but also looking for any rooms with lights on. He did not think anyone else would wish to practice this early, so, theoretically, there should only be one other light. Also, with how well Ferdinand could hear the piano, whoever it was must have left their door slightly open. 

Finally, Ferdinand found the room he was looking for. Sure enough, the door was ajar, but not enough to see through. Ferdinand carefully positioned himself near the window so that he could see the pianist’s face in the mirror on the wall. And… he was positively beautiful. Ferdinand nearly gasped when he laid eyes on the graceful figure before him.

The man was slender, despite what his broad shoulders seemed to suggest. His black hair was mostly short, except for the long fringe in the front that covered most of the right side of his face. The hair hanging over his face was charming, but in the moment Ferdinand hated how it obscured his observations. Luckily, there was a beat or two where the man leaned back and his face was revealed. It was a thin face with high cheekbones, thin eyebrows, a long, thin nose, and thin lips. His eyes were closed. His skin tone nearly matched the ivory keys in front of him. Oh, he was absolutely lovely, even with the heavy bags under his eyes that betrayed his sleeping habits.

It was a short while before the man’s face came into view again, but this time his eyes were open. Ferdinand gave a full body flinch and nearly slammed himself into the wall next to the door. He knew those eyes. Those chilling, mint eyes. They had spent hours glaring daggers into him five years ago. The pianist, the beautiful pianist, in front of him was none other than Hubert von Vestra. He was the very same man that Ferdinand had nearly come to blows with immediately before performing in a competition. That all had seemed like so long ago, but now it was the sole occupant of the forefront of his mind. Hubert may not have been the most pleasant, but Ferdinand had been absolutely nightmarish in those days. 

Ferdinand had thought he might like to introduce himself to this fantastic musician, but that was out of the question now. The conditions were too similar to how they first met. Even if Hubert had miraculously forgotten, he would surely remember if Ferdinand were to enter and speak his own name.

The music stopped.

Ferdinand fled.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

“And you just… _ran_?” Lorenz asked incredulously. “You fell in love with the man at first sight and you just ran away?!”

Ferdinand’s grip tightened on his cup of tea. “It is not so simple… We knew each other briefly at the beginning of undergrad, before… everything. I am afraid I was quite nasty to him. Granted, he was not very nice either, but I must admit I started it.”

Lorenz took a sip of his own tea, looking thoughtful. “Hm… Well, if you both like to practice at the same time, I’m sure another chance will arise.” 

“I suppose…”

“Say, have you looked at the accompanist list? I got Dr. Essar again,” the purple-haired flutist sighed.

“Essar… He is the music theory professor, correct?” Ferdinand asked.

Lorenz nodded. “I forget you didn’t do your undergrad here. Yes, yes, Hanneman von Essar teaches theory. He’s a fine man but people don’t particularly like him as a professor. He’s so involved with theory that he forgets we have other responsibilities. It’s as if… if we’re not only doing his work we aren’t doing enough.”

Ferdinand tried to look as though he understood. Perhaps once he met this Dr. Essar he would get what Lorenz was trying to say.

“But,” Lorenz declared, “enough about that. Check the list and I can probably tell you about your accompanist.”

“Ah, yes, of course!” Ferdinand pulled out his phone and opened his email. 

He opened the list and typed his name in the search bar. There he was, right under… Edelgard von Hresvelg, the Adrestian violin prodigy. No, surely… Ferdinand knew Edelgard only ever worked with one pianist. This could not be happening. It was too much to hope that Edelgard had allowed herself to be given to another accompanist. Slowly, with dread coiling in his stomach, Ferdinand dragged his eyes over to the single name in the other column of that section of the list. 

“No, no, no, no…” Ferdinand murmured, tangling a hand in his long hair.

Lorenz leaned forward. “Ferdinand? What’s wrong? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I would rather that be the case…” the ginger-haired man said shakily. “Lorenz… My accompanist is Vestra. It’s _him._ ” 

Lorenz stared in silence for a moment. “What are you going to do…?” he finally asked.

Ferdinand was not sure. He saw several options before him. He could pretend he did not know Hubert. Foolish, really. If Hubert was anything like what Ferdinand remembered and expected, he would not let the younger man off so easily. That option was a last resort, then. Ferdinand supposed he _could_ try to act as though he had forgotten they once knew each other. He could feign surprise and realization when Hubert inevitably brought it up. No… These were both just ways of trying to avoid the issue at hand.

He needed, and wanted, to apologize to Hubert for how he had behaved. Ferdinand was a different man now. Years of therapy had helped make sure of that. He wanted Hubert to understand why he had treated him so badly, to explain his own faults. He allowed his pride to be hurt at the knowledge that someone out there had such a low opinion of him.

Ferdinand was startled by the gentle feeling of Lorenz’s hand on his on the table.

“Ferdie…?” the slender man prompted. “You’re looking very introspective.”

“My apologies, friend.” Ferdinand chuckled nervously. “I did not realize I had gotten so deep into my own thoughts.”

“Enlighten me,” Lorenz said, not moving his hand. Ferdinand was grateful for it. The contact grounded him.

“I must apologize to him,” Ferdinand blurted out. “I will extend an olive branch and attempt to start anew.” 

“Admirable. Let me know if you need any assistance.” 

“Thank you,” Ferdinand said with a smile. He paused for a moment. “I think I shall send him an email, offer to meet. Leave it up to him to decide if it will be a formal rehearsal or just a meeting.”

He listened to Lorenz discuss his date the previous night as he drafted his message.

_‘Mr. Vestra,’ good, formal. A show of respect. Proceed as if he might not remember you, it would not be good to be presumptuous. Praise his talents, I was rather rude to him about them last time. Offer to meet, let it be on his terms… Perfect._

Once Ferdinand finished typing and hit ‘send’ before he chickened out, he gave his attention back to Lorenz. 

“...and then I said, ‘Why, you’re being very forward, Claude von Riegan,’ and _he_ said—” 

Ferdinand interrupted him. “Claude von Riegan?? You mean to tell me that you had a date with the up-and-coming composer? The one who has already been hailed as one of the next greats? The one you have had a miserable crush on for as long as he has been in the spotlight?”

“The very same,” Lorenz said smugly. “And not only that. I spent the night at his apartment.”

“You scoundrel!” Ferdinand gasped.

“I know, I know… I don’t usually do things like that, but… Oh, Ferdinand, he’s something else…” Lorenz had a faraway look in his eyes and a lopsided smile on his lips.

“Please, spare me the details,” Ferdinand practically begged. “Rather, I would love to hear how you two met.”

Lorenz beamed. “Of course! Well, Edelgard actually invited him to my recital last semester. He’s written a few pieces for her and Hubert so they’re well-acquainted. Apparently, Claude had been complaining about his lack of a recent muse and Edelgard seemed to think my performance would help him! And Claude stuck around until nearly everyone else left to chat with me. We exchanged information and have been ‘talking’ ever since.”

“But that was months ago! Why did you put off your date until last night?”

“Claude had to return to Almyra for the summer, to visit his parents. He said it did wonders for his inspiration but he missed his favorite flutist.” Lorenz was blushing. 

Ferdinand could not help but smile. “I am happy for you, my friend.”

“Thank you. Oh, dear, your phone went off.”

Ferdinand quickly snatched up the device. He had an email. His pulse kicked up speed. Sure enough, it was a response from Hubert. 

_Aegir,_

_We will meet at the coffee shop on the corner of 6th and 8th, Merchant’s Stop. Tomorrow, 2:00 PM. I will be evaluating you. Do not be late._

_-HvV_

Ferdinand showed the message to Lorenz.

Lorenz hummed. “Well, it could be worse. That’s par for the course for an interaction with Hubert.”

“Hm, I suppose you are right. I just wish I knew what he was thinking…”

“I don’t believe there is a person on the goddess’s green earth who knows what that man is ever thinking,” Lorenz laughed. “Still, it’s an interesting meeting place he’s chosen.”

Ferdinand gave him a curious look, imploring him to continue.

“It’s just that the place hasn’t been open very long and it’s already the new hotspot for LGBT students. We know the owners, actually.”

“We do?” Ferdinand asked. He would not put if past Lorenz to know them, but Ferdinand himself was far less familiar with the area. 

“Back from Garreg Mach. Surely you remember Ignatz Victor and Raphael Kirsten?”

Ferdinand searched his memory. The names were familiar but… Oh, yes! Ignatz had played the oboe. He was a meek little thing but he was quite talented. He had been at the school on scholarship. Raphael had been too, now that Ferdinand thought about it. Raphael had been the opposite of Ignatz. He was huge and loud, and a percussionist. He always refused to play any keyboard or auxiliary instruments, Ferdinand remembered. Raphael and Ignatz had been very close as long as he had known them, but he was surprised that they had opened a café together.

“Well, I suppose they’re both Victor-Kirsten now. They got married last summer. It was a lovely wedding, very rustic,” Lorenz said thoughtfully.

That explains it, then.

“You think I should read into the fact that Hubert wishes to meet in a gay café?” Ferdinand inquired.

Lorenz shrugged. “Only if you still think you’re in love with him after knowing who he is. Hm, I wonder if Edelgard will be there…”

“And why should she be?”

“You know how attached Hubert is to her, though she _has_ given his leash more and more slack over the last few years. Now… I _did_ hear that Edelgard and Dorothea have been dating for some time. Poor Hubert must have been devastated. Or perhaps he’s a worse man than I thought and he’s holding out hope that Edelgard realizes she isn’t a lesbian after all and will dump Dorothea for him.”

“Lorenz, my friend, not you as well! Do not tell me you also believe that drivel about Hubert being in love with her?” Ferdinand’s voice sounded more exasperated than he hoped. 

“I’m not saying _I_ believe it, dear, but it’s undeniable that many believe he has always carried a torch for her. Maybe the meeting location is a sign that he’s finally extinguished it.”

“I do not think he was ever in love with her,” Ferdinand stated resolutely. “Their relationship never struck me as something with romantic overtones. Just something… strangely sad.”

“I suppose you’ll find out,” Lorenz said with a shrug. “Oh, do tell me if he’s _experienced_ or not. Claude and I have a running bet.”

“ _Lorenz!!_ ”

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Hubert’s phone chimed as he split from Edelgard and Dorothea for the afternoon. A response from the Aegir brat.

_Mr. Vestra,_

_You will find me to be alarmingly punctual._

_-Ferdinand von Aegir_

He chuckled to himself. Very well. This should be an interesting meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tune in next time for our boys to actual meet again in a 100% platonic coffee meeting  
> i hope u all liked my little raphnatz easter egg and my increasing "everyone goes to therapy" agenda
> 
> i hope yall enjoyed this one, and as always comments and kudos are loved and appreciated <3


	3. Development, Section 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hubert and ferdinand meet, later hubert has fun for once in his life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! hope everyone's having a good week
> 
> this chapter's a little shorter than the last two, but it ends where it needs to  
> let's get into it! heeeeeere's ferdie!

Hubert entered the cafe at 1:45pm sharp. The establishment was quite busy. He spotted Edelgard and Dorothea trying to be discreet at a corner table. Of course they were here. Dorothea had suggested the place to him. She must have convinced Edelgard to join her to spy on the meeting. Hubert would pretend he hadn’t seen them.

As he continued his visual sweep of the room, he saw a couple in another corner that bared a striking resemblance to Claude von Riegan and Lorenz Hellmann Gloucester. Curious, but could be a coincidence. Finally, Hubert’s eyes caught on a shock of long ginger hair. Ferdinand was already here. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go, that was why Hubert had arrived fifteen minutes early. He was to select a table of his comfort, hopefully a seating arrangement that would intimidate Aegir. But, there Ferdinand sat, at a table near a window. The afternoon sun surrounded him with a light glow, giving his hair a fiery aura. 

Hubert swallowed thickly.

And then, almost as if he’d heard, Ferdinand turned in his direction. The man beamed upon spotting him and waved him over. Hubert’s feet felt heavy as he moved. 

“Mr. Vestra, good afternoon!” Ferdinand greeted.

“We’re both students, ‘Hubert’ is fine,” Hubert attempted to sound discontent as he took a seat.

“Ah! Well, then, good afternoon, Hubert!”

This was going to be difficult. The man simply saying his name gave him all kinds of _feelings_. In the midst of these feelings, Hubert noticed there was a cup of coffee in front of him.

“What is this?” Hubert asked, gesturing to the cup.

“Well, I arrived just a few minutes before you, so I went ahead and ordered for the both of us. I hope it was not too forward of me.” Ferdinand sounded almost sheepish.

Who was this man? He was nothing like the adolescent terror that had plagued Hubert five years ago. This man was, well… a man. He beat Hubert at his own punctuality game and _then_ treated Hubert to a drink. He was, dare Hubert think it, thoughtful. What was going on? Was this some sort of game? A power move? What was Ferdinand’s aim?

Hubert narrowed his eyes at the cup of coffee before hesitantly bringing it to his lips. It was exactly how he typically ordered it. His shock must have been evident on his face because Ferdinand’s smile brightened.

“Oh, do you like it? I am very glad. I knew you liked coffee but I had to make a guess on how you take it.” Ferdinand took a sip of what appeared to be tea in his own cup.

“You… guessed?” Hubert had his suspicions.

Ferdinand looked more downcast when he set his cup down. “You do not trust me, and I understand. I do… I am sorry, Hubert. I know that we did not get along when we last interacted.”

That was a light way of putting it, but… Wait, had Ferdinand just admitted to remembering him? _Dammit…_ Another part of Hubert's plan gone.

"Your email seemed to suggest that you didn't remember me," Hubert challenged. 

"...Did it? Oh, damn…" Ferdinand said softly, in a kind of voice that definitely didn't make Hubert _feel_ _things._ "I must apologize once again, in that case. I quite remember how… well, terrible I was to you. I was erring on the side of politeness in my email, in the event that perhaps you had somehow forgotten me."

_How could I ever forget you?_ Hubert thought in temporarily unrestrained wonder, his eyes falling to the lock of curls that was caught on Ferdinand's lapel. 

Oh, he should probably say something.

"...I see…" Very eloquent. Wonderful job, Hubert.

"I suppose we should discuss the past briefly, though I would hate to dwell on it. You see, over the last few years my therapist has helped me see some things in a new light. I realize now that you were not deserving of my harsh remarks, and that they were indeed harsh. I am deeply sorry." Ferdinand ducked his head in the best facsimile of a bow that he could manage while seated.

Hubert could think of nothing else to say besides, "You were right about my musicality," which he blurted out before he knew he was speaking.

Ferdinand's head shot up. "I was… What?"

"You said I was too metronomic. You were right. That is… the aspect of my playing I've worked the most on since then," Hubert sighed. "So, as much as it pains me to admit, that brat you were was right."

The other man's shifting expression betrayed conflicted emotions upon hearing this. He seemed to want to be incredibly proud, but at the same time bashfully dismissive. As much as Hubert hated 'face journeys,' this was an enjoyable one to witness.

"You were accurate in your critiques of my playing as well," Ferdinand admitted, his face finally settling on a slightly downturned expression. "I promise you, Hubert, I am much better now. You will not be disappointed."

Hubert knew he was better. He already knew Ferdinand was the only flutist he'd ever want to listen to for the rest of his days. He was surprised the statement hadn't come with an assurance of superiority over Edelgard. Perhaps that was a testament to how much the man had changed.

Ferdinand's face suddenly brightened. "Well, shall we discuss some sort of a rehearsal schedule? How are your Thursday afternoons?"

"I have a previous engagement every other Thursday," Hubert said. Well… He supposed there was no need to be coy; Ferdinand had already openly mentioned his own therapist. "...It's my appointment with my therapist across town."

"Why, Hubert! I dare say I have even more respect for you now! I never would have thought you the type to utilize therapy," Ferdinand said, his eyes practically sparkling. 

"I never pegged you as the type for therapy either," Hubert shot back.

The ginger flutist sighed. "Yes, I likely never would have considered it on my own. Luckily I was rather forced into it after the reveal of the first of my father’s scandals. Well, I suppose we do not need to get into all of this now. We have established that Thursdays will not work.”

The two compared schedules for a frustrating amount of time. It seemed as if it was destined that their availability could be combined like a jigsaw puzzle to create a timetable that was entirely full. Hubert eventually groaned, running his gloved fingers through his bangs. 

“The only other time I technically have available is Friday evenings,” he sighed.

Ferdinand had an odd expression on his face. He didn’t seem to have heard anything.

“Ferdinand,” Hubert said forcefully. “ _Aegir._ ”

The other man blinked rapidly and his face flushed slightly. “My apologies, Hubert, my mind must have gotten away from me. What were you saying?” 

“I was proposing Friday evening as a rehearsal time,” Hubert said, scrutinizing Ferdinand. What was responsible for his sudden change in behavior? He must have missed it when he closed his eyes while moving his hair.

“Friday evenings?” Ferdinand repeated. “That would be perfect!” And he was already back to his sunny disposition.

They discussed the more specific aspects of their meeting schedule for the better part of an hour until Ferdinand glanced at his watch and declared that he needed to go to work. _He has a job…?_ Hubert thought, slightly in awe. _What does he do? Does he teach flute lessons?_ He had half a mind to ask, but Ferdinand seemed to be in a hurry.

“I will see you next Friday, then,” Hubert said as Ferdinand stood.

The ginger-haired man nodded. “Yes, yes. I will send you the music when I get home tonight. I do look forward to seeing you again. Farewell!” He turned to leave but then hesitated and whirled back around, his fair fanning out in a way that was only mildly distracting.

“Is something the matter?” Hubert asked.

“Let me give you my phone number,” Ferdinand said quickly, pulling a pen and what appeared to be his crumpled receipt from his jacket. “That way we will not be restricted to only using email.”

Their hands brushed as the receipt changed ownership and Hubert could feel the warmth of Ferdinand’s fingers even through his gloves. He hoped he wasn’t blushing as he bid the man farewell again. And he certainly wasn’t privately appreciative of the man’s backside as he left.

Hubert sat, still and silent, for a few long moments as he mentally recounted important aspects of the meeting. Ferdinand was no longer a terror. In fact, he was now dangerously charming. Hubert would have to stomp these _feelings_ he was developing into the dirt so they didn’t get in the way. He could hardly play his best for the man if he kept getting distracted by him. Besides, a sun god incarnate would never be interested in a personification of the dark side of the moon such as himself.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Later that evening, as Hubert was pouring over some reading at the coffee table, the apartment door was thrown open. He looked up, half expecting to see an angry Caspar storming in, even though he knew his roommates were out on their date night. Then he saw Edelgard and Dorothea appear in the living room.

“ _Hubert von Vestra!”_ Edelgard very nearly shouted, throwing her purse in his general direction.

Hubert watched the bag hit the floor. “Good evening, Edelgard. I believe I told you that spare key was only to be used in case of emergency.” 

“ _Hubie!_ ” Dorothea yelled. She sounded slightly less frustrated than Edelgard at least.

“...Have I done something wrong?” Hubert looked back and forth between the two women. He knew they had been observing him at the coffee shop, but he didn’t think he had behaved poorly.

“We followed you to see some _drama_ , not whatever you call that horrific show of flirtatious tension!” Dorothea scolded. “Who taught you how to hit on men? That was pathetic!” 

Hubert raised an eyebrow at her. “What on earth are you talking about? I wasn’t hitting on anyone. I’ve never hit on anyone.”

Dorothea just shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, really? Hubie, I have seen every existing style of flirting that’s out there. You were one-hundred percent flirting with him.”

Hubert looked to Edelgard helplessly, but he received no shelter even from her. To his horror, she smirked at him.

“You have never expressed this kind of interest in another person, not in all this time I’ve known you,” Edelgard said. “And to think that you have set your sights on Ferdinand von Aegir of all people… Although, he did seem more tolerable than he used to be.”

“Careful, Edie. Don’t let him fool you. He’s always been polite,” Dorothea objected. “Seriously, Hubie, _him_?” 

Hubert knew he’d been trapped. He couldn’t talk or worm his way out of this corner. He’d allowed Edelgard and Dorothea to get too close and as a consequence they had figured him out. He had no choice but to be honest now. Well… _mildly_ honest.

“...I fear he’s not as irritating as I expected him to be,” he sighed begrudgingly. 

“That’s some high Vestra praise!” Dorothea laughed. “You might as well have just said you think he’s hot! Write a sonnet about him while you’re at it!”

Hubert blushed and furrowed his eyebrows together. “...He is not _un_ attractive…” His therapist had been encouraging him to be more honest with himself and others, but he never imagined things would turn out like this.

Edelgard’s smile nearly split her face in two. “Oh, _Hubert_! You _do_ like him!”

“Can we not discuss this? Not now? Aegir may have turned out to be a genuinely good musician and… not the scrawny fop he used to be, but… There is still no definitive evidence that his personality has changed,” Hubert said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back into the couch.

Edelgard looked unconvinced about something he’d said, but Dorothea spoke up first.

“Oh, he’s still a fop, but now he’s just a fop with professional equestrian experience,” the opera singer said with a giggle.

Ferdinand was an equestrian? Hubert had already known that the Aegir household owned horses but he assumed the animals had just been for show and leisure rides. Hm… That explained the apparent musculature of his legs.

Hubert needed to refocus before he got distracted thinking about Ferdinand’s legs. 

Edelgard lightly elbowed Dorothea in the side. “Come on, Thea, we’ve teased him enough for one evening.” 

“Yeah, yeah, ok. Hubie, can we stay and hang out? We haven’t played cards in a while.” Dorothea sat in the armchair next to the couch, indicating that Hubert really had no choice in the matter. Still, he tried to protest.

“I really should be working on–” 

“You do nothing but work! Relax for a bit and play some games with us!” Edelgard was already rummaging through the game drawer. Hubert truly had no choice. 

They played Uno for roughly an hour before Dorothea abruptly put her cards down and asked if Hubert had any wine. Hubert told her that he did, but also that he tried to avoid drinking on school nights. Dorothea just laughed at him as she got up to fetch wine and glasses from the kitchen. Hubert didn’t remember telling her where he kept his alcohol. 

The three drank and continued to play, the rules of their card games shifting as they had more to drink. At some point, a second bottle was opened. Shortly after, the door buzzer sounded.

“Oh, the food’s here,” Edelgard declared. “Thea, will you get the door? I don’t want to get up.” She had sunken into the couch, leaning heavily on Hubert.

Dorothea nodded and left the room.

Edelgard leaned her head on Hubert’s shoulder and looked up at him. “Are you ok? You’re getting distant.”

“...Am I?” Hubert wondered distantly. 

Edelgard snickered.

Hubert frowned slightly. “El… Am I gay?” he asked quietly, his usually cautious tongue loosened with wine.

“I can’t answer that for you,” Edelgard giggled into his shoulder. “Well, Hubert, are you gay?” 

“I don’t know. How do I know?”

Edelgard hummed thoughtfully. “Do you like men?”

Hubert considered this. “...I like Ferdinand.”

“Haha! I did it! I got you to say you like him!”

“That’s not what this conversation’s about,” Hubert chuckled. “And you said it yourself, I’ve never liked anyone else.”

“Hmm, that’s true… Ferdinand _is_ the only person you’ve ever liked. We don’t have a good sample size. You could be some brand of ace. You don’t have to figure it out now. As long as you know you like him.” Edelgard nestled herself further into Hubert’s side. She yawned. 

The pianist jostled her lightly. “Don’t go to sleep. And I can’t like him. He’ll never like me. It’ll just make things difficult. How do I stop liking him?”

“No…” the violinist whined, “don’t stop liking him. It’s cute. He’ll like you. He has to. Where’s Thea?” 

As if on cue, Dorothea entered the room again, carrying bags of food. “Right here. Hubie, are you stealing my girlfriend?”

“No,” Hubert said quickly.

“No,” Edelgard insisted, “he’s not stealing me. He’s maybe-gay.” 

Dorothea smiled, amused, and set the food on the coffee table. “Ok, Edie, I think you’ve had enough wine for tonight. Let’s get some food in you.”

Hubert realized then that he and Edelgard had done most of the drinking. Had he even seen Dorothea pour a second glass? She hadn’t suggested wine because she wanted to partake, then. She’d done it to force Hubert to relax for a minute. Edelgard had likely only had so much to drink to encourage Hubert to loosen up. And as much as he hated to admit it, the girls’ plan had worked. He hadn’t thought about his responsibilities or the Ferdinand Dilemma in…

Ah, right.

Ferdinand.

Hubert felt warm all of a sudden.

“Eat,” Dorothea said, shoving a container of takeout at him. “Stop thinking and eat. You’re too tipsy to think.”

He obeyed.

After they ate, they played a few more rounds of cards. Hubert and Edelgard, mostly Hubert, finished off the open bottle of wine. At that point, Dorothea decided it was probably time for her to get Edelgard home. They said their goodbyes as they cleaned up the table and once the two women were gone, Hubert reclined back into the couch. At some point he realized he was horizontal. He then also realized that he never texted Ferdinand. He fumbled around for his phone and pulled up his messaging app. Ferdinand’s number was already in his contacts, luckily, for if it hadn’t been, Hubert’s addled mind wouldn’t be able to locate the receipt. He quickly typed out, proofread, and sent what he believed was an appropriate first text.

**Hubert [11:58 PM]:** You ridr horfses??

He barely had time to set his phone down before he got a response.

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:58 PM]:** Who is this???

**Hubert [11:59 PM]:** Hubrrt. Von Vestts. Yoy horf?????

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:59 PM]:** Hubert! Are you all right? Are you drunk??

**Hubert [12:00 AM]:** No, I"m not drunl I only haf 2 wines

**Ferdinand von Aegir [12:01 AM]:** You are drunk and you should get some rest. The Hubert I know would never measure his alcohol consumption in "2 wines." I recommend you drink some water and go to bed.

**Ferdinand von Aegir [12:01 AM]:** Good night, Hubert. Sleep well.

Hubert frowned. Who was Aegir to tell him what to do? He _was_ rather tired now that he thought about it, however. Maybe he should get some rest after all. 

The thought had barely gone through his head before he passed out on the couch, his phone slipping from his hand and onto the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope yall liked it!   
> i don't think i ever say it in these exact words in the fic, so i will clarify here that i see hubert as demisexual gay
> 
> tune in next time for rehearsal shenanigans and tensions, some claurenz advice, and maybe more
> 
> comments and kudos are always loved and appreciated <3


	4. Development, Section 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a rehearsal, some reflection, a second rehearsal, and what comes after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!!!! sorry about not updating earlier this weekend, everything has been a Lot mentally and i finally pulled together the energy to get through the final edits and post this.  
> there's a lot that happens but i think y'all will enjoy this one so let's just get into it

Ferdinand paced back and forth in front of the elevator doors, gripping his flute case tightly. It is not that difficult. All he has to do is enter the elevator, go down to the practice rooms, get to Hubert's room, and have their first rehearsal. Nothing about this should be difficult. Except for the fact that not only was the past still bothering Ferdinand, but now Hubert had become the most handsome man in the world. Gone was the unflattering, greasy, bell-shaped haircut. Gone was the ever-present scowl. Gone was the endless and extreme devotion to Edelgard and Edelgard alone. 

Ferdinand had no idea how to deal with this new and improved Hubert.

And then Hubert had drunk texted him last week. They were both pretending that it did not happen, only communicating about the upcoming rehearsal. Ferdinand was grateful. He still was not entirely sure what Hubert had been trying to ask him. His leading theory was that he had been asking about his family’s horses. But, of course, they had not addressed it so Ferdinand could not confirm. And what their relationship _really_ needed was another layer of tension. 

He took in a deep breath and punched the ‘down’ button on the elevator panel with more force than strictly necessary. The doors slid open and Ferdinand quickly slipped inside before he could get nervous again. He whistled through a section of the piece he was working on, thinking about not thinking about Hubert. Or Hubert’s hair. Or his cheekbones, or his surprisingly bright eyes, or– _Damn._

The elevator stopped and Ferdinand took a moment to collect himself before the doors reopened. He did not expect Hubert to be standing right outside, but it never hurt to be prepared. As usual for this late on a Friday, the practice halls were deserted. Ferdinand wandered down to Hubert’s practice room, no tempting tones to guide him this time. He was several minutes early, but the light was shining through the window so Hubert had already arrived. Ferdinand knocked on the door. Or, he was about to. He had just raised his fist but the door swung away from him before he got any further. Hubert stood in the doorway, looking almost surprised. If Ferdinand did not think he knew him better, he would have said the man seemed shocked.

“You… How long have you been standing there?” Hubert asked, his expression shifting into a neutral scowl.

Ferdinand was not offended; this was fairly typical behavior. “Not long at all! I was actually just about to knock. Your timing is impeccable!”

Hubert shook his head slowly. “…That’s one word for it. Well, come on. We don’t have time to waste.” He turned away and returned to the piano bench.

As he entered the practice room, Ferdinand realized exactly how deep of a mess he had gotten himself into. Hubert looked like he had slept no more than an hour that night and yet Ferdinand still found him utterly captivating. He would have to keep himself in check. He was here for a rehearsal. He needed to be professional.

Hubert, apparently, was having no problem acting professional. In fact, apart from the exchange at the door, Hubert barely spoke to him. The pianist let him know what piece to start and what parts they needed to run over again, but he had an air of detachment about him. After one run, where Hubert gave nothing but a short hum, Ferdinand decided this went past the realm of being professional and that he needed to say _something_.

“Is everything all right, Hubert? You do not seem especially satisfied. Do we need to play through that section again?”

The other man did not even look at him. “No, we’ll be able to work out the issues. That was fine for a first rehearsal. Some of it will come as you practice more.”

“Well, yes. And you of course will also improve with practice.”

“…What.” Hubert’s shoulders tensed.

“Like you said, we have plenty of time. Are you sure you are feeling all right, Hubert? You seem tired.” Ferdinand almost hated to bring it up. The man surely knew.

If possible, Hubert stiffened even more. “I’m fine. Even if I was tired, that wouldn’t be anything new.”

Ferdinand frowned. “Hubert, it simply will not do if you are not getting rest! You—”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business how much I sleep,” the dark-haired man snapped, interrupting him. “Can we just rehearse?”

The flutist lowered his gaze and raised his instrument. He wished he knew why Hubert was even more irritable today. The man was hardly ever pleasant, in Ferdinand’s experience and research, but this was close to his behavior from five years prior. He was hesitant to say he was bothered by this, but he found it mildly worrying. There was not much that Ferdinand could do for Hubert’s attitude at the moment, however. Not when he was already so visibly frustrated. They would just have to press on through rehearsal.

“Right, my apologies. Could we perhaps run that movement again? I would feel better about it,” Ferdinand said, hoping his tone came across as calmly as he intended.

Hubert nodded but said nothing. He readied his hands on the keyboard and looked over his shoulder, chilling eyes narrowed. Ferdinand signaled that he could begin. The run, as a whole, went well. They each had their small issues, but they were both still learning so it was to be expected. Ferdinand had come to terms with the fact that things could not be perfect on the first try some time ago.

It appeared Hubert was still working on that.

He did not even make it through the final measure before growling and slamming the piano lid shut. Ferdinand jumped, clutching his flute to his chest.

“…Is everything all right?”

The pianist grumbled something under his breath.

“Pardon? What was that?”

“I missed that chord.”

“Did you?” Ferdinand had not noticed.

Hubert abruptly stood and stalked over to the corner near the door. “Obviously. The third was an entire whole step off. There’s no need to try to placate me by pretending you didn’t realize.”

Feeling much like he was confronting an animal, Ferdinand stood his ground. “Truly, Hubert, I did not even hear it.”

“Then you should be more familiar with your accompaniment,” Hubert scoffed.

“It is our first rehearsal! We cannot expect perfection!”

“Maybe you can’t.”

“Please, Hubert, I do not want to fight with you on this. Can we just move on? Or, perhaps call it here until our next meeting?”

“What, and admit defeat?”

“You are starting to sound like me.” Ferdinand narrowed his eyes. “Why must you constantly achieve perfection? It is perfectly acceptable to be imperfect.”

He was not sure if it was because he used a line directly from his therapist or because he compared Hubert to himself, but the other man started advancing. Ferdinand backed away until he found himself colliding with the wall. Hubert loomed over him and his heart leapt into his throat.

“Why must I be perfect?” Hubert asked, something akin to malice in his mocking voice. “I perform with Edelgard von Hresvelg and you have the _audacity_ to ask why I must be perfect? Lady Edelgard isn’t deserving of anything less than perfection!”

Ferdinand swallowed. “‘Lady Edelgard?’ So, it comes back to her again. I should not be surprised.”

Hubert scowled.

“Your dedication to being _perfect_ for Edelgard, even when you are not playing for her, is holding you back. Almost as much as your rigidity used to. And here I was thinking you had improved as an accompanist.”

“And here _I_ was thinking you had grown as a musician,” Hubert snarled. “But you’re the same naïve brat you used to be.”

Neither man moved nor dared to break eye contact. Ferdinand could not find the right words to describe the energy in the room, but it was potent. Hubert was practically pressing him into the wall at this point and Ferdinand tried desperately not to squirm under his heavy gaze. After what felt like an eternity, Hubert’s phone chimed. The taller man glanced down at his pocket and Ferdinand took that moment to slip away.

“Well,” Ferdinand began as he opened his flute case, “I think this will go better for everyone if we quit while we are ahead today. We will meet back next week.”

Hubert stared at him.

The ginger flutist finished cleaning and packing up his instrument before heading toward the door. “Have a good evening, Hubert. Say hello to Edelgard for me.”

He left without waiting for a response.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Lorenz folded his hands on the café table. Never a good sign.

“Out with it,” Ferdinand said around the lip of his cup of tea. “What do you need so desperately to say?”

“Nothing!” Lorenz feigned innocence, something he was well-versed in. “I just wanted to know how your first date with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Not-Handsome went!”

“Aw, come on,” Claude said, returning to the table with two drinks in hand. “Lay off the poor guy. You don’t have to tease him so much about his horrible taste in men.”

Ferdinand could still hardly believe he was sitting in a café with Claude von Riegan, but there were more important matters at hand. “For the last time, it was not a date. Hubert is my accompanist. We were rehearsing.”

Lorenz took a sip from the cup Claude handed him and hummed thoughtfully. “That’s what they all say, darling.”

Claude nodded in agreement, sipping from whatever pink monstrosity he held. “Sorry, Ferdinand, but he’s got a point. Don’t know how many ‘we were just rehearsing’s I’ve heard over the years. Always preceded by sounds that were definitely _not_ vocal warm-ups, of course.”

Ferdinand felt himself go red. “I would never… Not in the practice rooms!”

“You might be the only one,” Claude laughed.

Lorenz nudged his boyfriend’s arm. “Pay no mind to him, Ferdie. And… You really _shouldn’t_ … you _know_ … We all know how poorly soundproofed those rooms are.”

“Oh, babe, that reminds me,” the composer started. “I wanted to _rehearse_ something with you tonight.”

“Are you writing something new? You didn’t tell m— Oh. _Oh!_ Claude, please!” Lorenz’s face turned the same bright shade as the embroidered rose on his lapel. Ferdinand had the good decency to be embarrassed as well.

Claude then spent some time discussing a piece he was actually working on that had a “flute part almost as lovely as the flutist it’s for.” Ferdinand thought it sounded wonderful and hoped he could play it someday, but he found his mind drifting back to Hubert. He realized too late that both other men were looking at him.

“Still worried about Vestra?” Claude asked. “Don’t be scared, I’m sure he still likes you.”

“That is the problem,” Ferdinand bemoaned. “I thought we were on good terms now. He even seemed to rather like me when we met for drinks. But his behavior at rehearsal… Why, he was downright rude!”

Claude and Lorenz looked at each other. They were obviously having some sort of silent conversation, which Ferdinand could not follow. Finally, they both sighed and turned to face him again.

“Ferdinand, darling,” Lorenz said gently.

“Oh, buddy,” Claude said at the same time.

The ginger flutist gripped his tea with both hands. “Please just say whatever it is.”

“Look, Ferdinand, romance is a delicate art. Some people aren’t good at it. Vestra obviously isn’t. Poor guy is probably just freaking out because he likes you.” Claude took a huge sip from his drink when he finished.

Lorenz picked up where his boyfriend left off. “You said yourself that the last time you worked together you were both quite different people. He may be having trouble reconciling the two Ferdinands. Hubert doesn’t strike me as a man well-accustomed to change.” He paused. “Hubert still likes you, Ferdie. Goddess knows why you like him, but you don’t need to worry about his feelings. He likely just doesn’t know what to do with any of this.”

Ferdinand considered these points. It was likely Hubert was confused about aspects of this. He had not heard of Hubert ever dating anyone. He was too devoted to Edelgard for that, probably. Of course, Ferdinand himself had never really dated anyone either. He and Lorenz had a… brief fling in high school when they were both figuring themselves out. They later admitted to each other that they were in it for the wrong reasons and ended things. Ferdinand would hardly call it romantic. He did not even particularly want to remember that point in his life.

Why was he thinking about this?

Ah, right. The point was that neither he nor Hubert had much experience with these sorts of things.

He looked at Lorenz and Claude and asked, “What should I do?”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Claude prompted. “Do you wanna just make peace or do you want to woo him?”

“…I do want to make peace with him, but… I do like him a lot, and if we could… perhaps… Well, I would not complain.”

Lorenz beamed. “Say no more, darling. We will help you in your romantic pursuits.”

Claude leaned in. “We actually kind of discussed this on the way over. Lorenz figured you might be in this sort of situation. Looks like he knows you pretty well. So! Let’s get on this.”

Ferdinand braced himself.

“Have you tried writing him a sonata?”

Lorenz lovingly smacked Claude’s shoulder. “We can’t all be professional composers.”

“Sorry, sorry. It was worth a shot,” the brown-haired man laughed. “Anyway. So, from what Lorenz tells me, your idea of dating is more like that of a seventeenth century lord. We need to update that a bit, have you be a little more forward. I’ve got a feeling the subtle approach isn’t gonna do too well with old Vestra.”

Lorenz and Claude spent the better part of an hour telling Ferdinand how he should flirt with Hubert. He still was not entirely sure about using their rehearsal time for the plan. But Claude seemed certain the only way to truly make peace was to address the tension. How badly could it go?

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Hubert sat on his couch, staring into the dark screen of his TV. His materials for his music history assignment were spread out on the coffee table in front of him but he hadn’t touched them since laying them down.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the rehearsal with Ferdinand.

Rehearsal had been awful but it truly was Hubert’s fault. He’d been in a downward spiral thinking about his ridiculous crush on Ferdinand before the man even arrived. And when the man did arrive, he was still outrageously handsome. Still outrageously beautiful.

It infuriated Hubert to no end.

Hubert had never been more distracted while playing. Ferdinand’s cologne demanded his attention. Ferdinand’s hair demanded his attention. _Ferdinand_ demanded his attention.

During one rep, Hubert had even been so consumed with listening to Ferdinand’s playing that he nearly missed an entrance. Absolutely unacceptable. He’d never miscounted a rest in his life.

Of course, his failings only proved to infuriate him further. Ferdinand tried to soothe him, gods damn him, and Hubert only blew up in his face. His behavior was atrocious. He wouldn’t be surprised if he received word that Ferdinand wanted a new accompanist, one who wouldn’t snap at him and insult his musicianship.

Hubert considered himself lucky that the text from Edelgard shattered the tension in the room when it did. He honestly wasn’t sure what he’d have ended up doing if he’d had Ferdinand against that wall any longer. Certainly nothing proper. He didn’t even know if the man liked him in _any_ sense of the word. He likely didn’t. That would only make sense.

In attempt to make sure that he wasn’t misremembering any of the horrors that occurred, he reread his conversation with Edelgard from immediately after the incident.

**Lady Edelgard [6:31 PM]:** I know you’re in the middle of rehearsal. Let me know how it’s going when you get a chance.

**Hubert [6:35 PM]:** You could not have texted at a more opportune time.

**Lady Edelgard [6:35 PM]:**??? What do you mean?

**Hubert [6:40 PM]:** I may have been about to do something I would have deeply regretted.

**Lady Edelgard [6:41 PM]:** What are you talking about? Hubert, please, for once in your life stop being a cryptic bastard.

**Lady Edelgard [6:41 PM]:** Are you still in rehearsal?

**Hubert [6:44 PM]:** No, rehearsal is over. Aegir has left. Things may have gotten slightly heated. I was already not in a good mood when we began and I kept getting distracted, which only made my mood worse. Eventually I snapped at Aegir and of course he didn’t back down and it ended in a confrontation. The next thing I knew I had practically pinned him against the wall. I’m not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t interrupted just now.

**Lady Edelgard [6:50 PM]:** hi hubie this is thea here quick question WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT I NEED YOU TO SAY IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS WHAT YOU MEAN THERE

**Lady Edelgard [6:50 PM]:** YOURE JUST GOING TO LEAVE US WITH THE VISUAL OF YOU PRESSING FERDIE AGAINST THE WALL AND SAY “OH YEAH THAT WAS A THING BUT WE”RE GOOD NOW”???????

**Lady Edelgard [6:51 PM]:** Hi, Hubert, Edelgard again. Sorry for Dorothea’s outburst. I do, however, wish to know the answer to what she asked as well.

**Hubert [7:00 PM]:** Honestly I am not sure if I was going to kiss him, hit him, or start rutting against him like some horny miscreant. It horrifies me to even think it, let alone type it out, so I hope you two are happy.

**Lady Edelgard [7:02 PM]:** INCREDIBLY HAPPY THANK YOU HUBIE!!!!! PLEASE TELL ME WHICH PRACTICE ROOM YOU END UP FUCKING IN SO I DONT EVER USE IT AGAIN

**Lady Edelgard [7:03 PM]:** I hope I don’t need to tell you that was Dorothea. Her point stands, though. If you do end up misusing the practice rooms in such a manner, do not let it be your regular one or I will not be able to step foot in there again.

**Hubert [7:07 PM]:** Your comments do nothing to improve the situation. I regretted telling you my thoughts before I even typed them out. I’m going to get some coffee and clear my head. If either of you attempt to discuss this further with me, I will block your numbers.

Hubert frowned at his phone. This didn’t help. He dropped the phone on the table next to his open book and resumed staring at the blank TV.

The door opened and Hubert half expected Edelgard and Dorothea to come storming in. Instead, Linhardt and Caspar cautiously made their way into the apartment. They stopped in front of the TV. Linhardt looked at Caspar. Caspar looked at Linhardt. They both placed takeout containers on the table, pushed them toward Hubert, and then retreated into their bedroom.

Hubert stared after them. And then decided he couldn’t let good leftovers go to waste.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

The second rehearsal seemed like it was going better than the first. Ferdinand had literally just walked in the door but Hubert hadn’t been agonizing over his arrival for the last hour. He considered that a win.

Then Ferdinand opened his mouth.

“Good evening, Hubert.” He paused and gave the pianist a slow, mortifying once-over. “Your outfit today is quite lovely. It really accentuates your figure.”

What was this? Why was Ferdinand complimenting him? It was unsettling.

And he really didn’t know what to make of that _look_ aimed his way.

Hubert cleared his throat. “…Thank you? We should get started in order to make sure we get through everything.”

Ferdinand smiled in that way of his that brightens a whole room and Hubert realized he was in more trouble than he originally thought.

The ginger flutist behaved strangely for the entire rehearsal. He fiddled with his hair more between reps. He smiled _constantly._ He placed his water bottle on the floor at his feet, which was closer than the chair he put it on last week. However, every time he leaned over to get a drink he bent completely at the waist and angled his backside directly at Hubert. The pianist tried to respectfully look away whenever this happened. It wasn’t right to… admire when the man was likely unaware of what he was doing.

When they took short breaks, Ferdinand would lean against the piano, all grins and sunshine. Hubert felt like his insides had been replaced with swarming butterflies. Was the man behaving like this in attempts to make up for the horrible atmosphere last week? What brought this on?

Despite the promising five seconds at the beginning of rehearsal, Hubert now considered it a blessing that they made it to the end without incident. And of course Ferdinand lingered on his way out.

“Is there something you need?” Hubert asked, slinging his messenger bag onto his shoulder.

Ferdinand startled slightly. “Ah, well… I was wondering… Do you have any plans after this?”

Hubert couldn’t get his hopes up. That was dangerous. “Hm… I have some assignments that need work but no solid plans.”

“Wonderful! I was hoping you might want to stop for some tea or something on our way out? There is a delightful little shop just past the parking deck.” Ferdinand’s eyes were brighter than his smile.

How could Hubert say no?

“Just past the parking deck” turned out to be a few blocks away, but Hubert didn’t mind. Ferdinand regaled him with the story of how he wound up picking this university for grad school. He told Hubert all about his teaching assistantship position with the music history department. Hubert found himself so engrossed with hearing about Ferdinand’s interests that he was almost disappointed when they arrived at their destination.

Ferdinand stepped forward and held the door open. “After you.”

Hubert, unsure of what to do in this situation, bowed the slightest bit and walked quickly through the door. He felt his cheeks go red when he heard the other man quietly chuckle behind him. He pretended he didn’t notice and busied himself with reading the menu. He didn’t need to, but it was something to do. Too late, he realized Ferdinand was already at the counter and ordering. For both of them. As the cashier read out the total, Hubert rushed forward and slapped his debit card on the counter. Ferdinand jumped slightly to the side and gave him a strange look.

“It’s only fair,” Hubert said, straightening his coat. “You paid last time.”

Ferdinand beamed at him, as if nothing could make him happier. The pianist hated the feeling this stirred in his chest.

Once they had their drinks, the two men sat down at a somewhat secluded table.

“Hubert, I must be honest,” Ferdinand said after a moment. “I hardly thought that you and I would ever be sitting, drinking tea like this. Well, tea and coffee, I suppose. I still do not see why you enjoy the stuff so.”

Hubert snorted. “I could say the same for your watery leaf juice. But… yes, there was a time not long ago when I would have flatly refused your invitation. I am… pleased to see how much you’ve grown.”

The ginger nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes! And the same to you! In fact, both of us admitting this is proof of that itself!”

“Ferdinand, you are… a much better man than I assumed you would be. I underestimated how much you could change in five years.” That was embarrassing. Hubert took a long drink from his coffee which, frankly, was far too hot still. When he looked over the rim of the cup, Ferdinand was staring at him. What could Hubert possibly have said to warrant that?

“Why, Hubert von Vestra! That was nearly an entire compliment!” Ferdinand laughed. “It felt odd to hear from you, I must admit. I would much prefer if you delivered any future compliments in writing.”

Hubert fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Right. In the event that I ever pay you another compliment, I’ll be sure to deliver it in a hand-written letter. Would you prefer a wax seal on the envelope as well?”

Ferdinand blushed and Hubert hated that he thought the color looked good on him. He hated how positively beautiful and radiant the man was. Hubert had been right. He didn’t deserve this man’s love, even if he theoretically _could_ achieve it. Ferdinand was a sun god, and Hubert but a shadow. He would certainly disappear in the full face of Ferdinand’s radiance.

Hubert slowly sipped at his coffee and watched as Ferdinand went off on a tangent about the development of the flute.

Well, he had survived this long. He could bask a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> people Have committed Certain Actions in the music practice rooms of your local university and i Wish i didnt know this about my alma mater but it's my job to burden everyone else with this revelation
> 
> hope yall enjoyed chapter four aka speedrunning the ferdibert B and A supports ft. claurenz and edelthea  
> tune in next week (or this end of this week????) for some Fun Ferdibert Bonding With No Romantic/Sexual Tension, No, That Would Just Be Ridiculous
> 
> comments and kudos are always loved and appreciated, thank yall so much for the attention this fic has already gotten it Truly is a passion project and i had no idea if my niche AU concept would be appealing


	5. Development, Section 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's game night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi welcome back to a new chapter, it's time for some Group Bonding  
> i've been working on academic writing junk all week so i dont have that many words to go here sorry
> 
> i noticed a Glaring Inconsistency while editing this i hope i managed to fix it well enough  
> let's-a go

Hubert opened the practice room door just in time for Ferdinand to step in front of it. The flutist looked up at him, smiling. Hubert, in a moment of weakness, thought his smile was the loveliest sight.

“Hubert! I know I texted you to say that I was on my way, but how did you…?” Ferdinand leaned slightly against the doorway.

“I could hear your ridiculous boot heels coming as soon as you stepped out of the elevator,” Hubert said, smirking. He liked Ferdinand’s boots. They were so distinctly _him_ , even if they were somewhat seasonally inappropriate.

“They are not ridiculous!” the ginger protested, shoving off the doorway and pushing past Hubert.

Hubert smiled after him, earning an endearing eye roll when the man turned around to prepare for rehearsal.

In the week between their second rehearsal and this third one, Hubert and Ferdinand seemed to have reached some middle ground without either man discussing it. Their “coffee date,” as Edelgard referred to it, must have had more impact than Hubert thought. The two men saw each other several times throughout the week and Ferdinand had even dropped by to say hello to the regular group for lunch one day. Dorothea’s teasing had been relentless after that. Still, it had been a good lunch.

And they were friends now? Hubert was hesitant to label them as such, but if he knew enough to question it then Ferdinand probably was his friend. It was odd to think about, but not unpleasant.

It certainly helped the energy in rehearsal. There were only brief moments when Hubert could feel the tension instead of long, nearly unbearable stretches of time. Practice was going so well that Hubert didn’t even notice he had a text until they took a break.

**Lady Edelgard [7:06 PM]:** Dorothea would like to know what kind of food you want for game night. We are going to pick it up on the way over. She also wants you to know that she’s going to replenish your alcohol supply. You are allowed no input here because you have “shit taste.”

Hubert sighed.

Ferdinand looked up from where he was marking his music. “Is something wrong, Hubert?”

Hubert briefly met his eyes before looking back down at his phone. “Oh, it’s nothing really… Just Dorothea taking control of my liquor shelf.”

“I did not know you two lived together.” There was an odd note to the man’s voice.

“We don’t.” He was about to elaborate when his phone chimed.

**Linhardt von H. [7:21 PM]:** hey caspar and i are coming to game night

**Linhardt von H. [7:21 PM]:** we’re gonna kick ur ass in CAH

Oh. Great.

Hubert immediately began going over the ways this night could go horribly for him. Most likely they would all ceaselessly tease him about his “crush.” Edelgard probably wouldn’t even defend him, that traitor. If only he could have someone on his side…

Wait a moment.

He studied Ferdinand. “Do you have plans tonight?” he asked.

“Me? Tonight?” Was the man blushing or was it the poor lighting in the practice room? “I do not have anything after this. Why do you ask?”

“How would you like to come to game night?”

“…Game night?”

Hubert nodded. “Every so often my apartment is commandeered to host game night. It’s usually just Edelgard, Dorothea, and I, but Linhardt and Caspar have invited themselves. Linhardt and Caspar are my roommates, by the way. I just thought you might like to come. There will be food and drink.”

Ferdinand considered the invitation or at least Hubert hoped that’s what he was doing. “That does sound quite fun. Thank you, Hubert! I would love to come.”

Hubert couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his lips. “Excellent. I will inform Edelgard and then we’ll finish up here.”

**Hubert [7:27 PM]:** I don’t care what food you get. Also, do not read too deeply into what I’m about to say. Ferdinand von Aegir will be joining us tonight.

**Lady Edelgard [7:29 PM]:** That is wonderful news, Hubert. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone’s civil.

Hubert sighed again. This ultimately meant very little, especially if Edelgard started drinking. Still, he supposed it was better than her promising to actively encourage the others.

“Is there a problem?” Ferdinand asked, holding his water bottle to his chest. Hubert’s eyes were briefly drawn to his unbuttoned collar and the bit of exposed throat there.

The pianist shook his head, both to clear his thoughts and reply. “No issue. Edelgard is very happy that you’re coming.”

Ferdinand puffed up a little, squaring his shoulders. “She is? Hm… I actually have not spent much time with Edelgard, or any of the others for that matter, in quite some time. I mean, there was that day I said hello to you while you were at lunch, but I truthfully do not think Edelgard and Dorothea noticed I was there… You do not think that she still… is upset with me, do you?”

“Upset with you? Ferdinand, Edelgard made peace with everything that happened in school long before I did. To be honest, when I saw that I was to be your accompanist, I wanted to have you reassigned. All I could think about was that horrid competition. But Edelgard encouraged me to give you another chance.” That was perhaps overstating what happened, but at some point Hubert had begun to care about Ferdinand’s feelings. He, for whatever reason, didn’t want the man to be upset over this.

“Oh. Well, that is good, I suppose. I mean, it is slightly upsetting to hear your gut reaction to my assignment, but I do not blame you.” The flutist looked embarrassed. “And, in truth, I was also initially upset at the assignment. However! I am quite glad for it now. You and I would not have reconnected and gotten to know each other otherwise.”

Hubert was overcome with a feeling he couldn’t identify. He’d have to decipher it later. “I am also glad. Thank you, Ferdinand, for giving me another chance.”

Now Ferdinand was giving him an odd look. It was far too soft for Hubert’s liking. The dark-haired man cleared his throat loudly and turned back to the piano.

“Right. So. We should get back to rehearsal so we can finish up here. It wouldn’t do to make Edelgard wait on us.”

The other man set his water back down. “Of course, of course. Where did we leave off?”

~~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Hubert wasn’t sure what kind of car he expected Ferdinand to drive (a horse, perhaps?), but he wasn’t ready to see the maroon four-door sedan that pulled out of the parking deck behind him. It was a surprisingly modest vehicle, but Hubert supposed it actually made sense. The Aegir family lost a lot of their wealth after the death of Ludwig and then the reveal of the scandals. Between the funeral costs and Ferdinand dealing out reparation funds to hurt parties, he had severely depleted the amassed fortune. Ferdinand was likely living off of whatever was left in his personal bank account. It was rather admirable, if Hubert was being honest. He was almost proud of the man for breaking away from that corrupt legacy in such a way.

And he hadn’t heard of Ferdinand fathering any illegitimate children, so that was another point in his favor.

He was also leagues more handsome than his father had ever been. No, not best to go down that train of thought now. Best to focus on driving and not thinking about how beautiful Ferdinand von Aegir was right before he was about to spend the evening with the flutist. And his other friends, of course.

“I would apologize for not having any time to clean before your arrival,” Hubert said as he led Ferdinand up to the apartment, “but any mess is undoubtedly my roommates’ doing.”

Ferdinand laughed. “Noted. Do not worry, Hubert. A little mess will not bother me.  
Hubert paused, certainly not awkwardly, in front of the door. “…Ah, good. Right. Well… This is it.” He was incredibly aware of the time it took him to get to the right key on his keyring and open the door.

“Oh, thank the goddess, you’re finally here—Oh. Hubert. Hi,” Linhardt said. He was draped halfway on the couch, like he’d been getting up before he realized who opened the door. “I was hoping you were Edelgard, here with the food…”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Hubert scoffed as he entered. He ushered Ferdinand past him as he hung his coat on its designated hook.

Caspar jumped up from his seat. “Ferdinand! Hey, man, it’s good to see you! How’ve you been?”

Ferdinand drew the short, blue-haired man in for a hug. “Caspar!! I have been doing well! It truly has been too long since we have seen each other. And, look at you! You have grown so much since we last properly spoke. It is no wonder I did not recognize you at auditions. Linhardt, you as well. I simply adore your hair, it suits you so well!”

Linhardt pulled himself into an upright position on the couch and gave a thumbs-up. “Your hair looks good too. You’re not going to chase me around my own home, are you?”

“Aw, babe, c’mon. You say that like he’s run after you more than once,” Caspar laughed. He pat Ferdinand on the shoulder and stepped back toward his seat.

Hubert watched Ferdinand look back and forth between the two men, his smile growing. “Are you two together?! I am so happy for you! I remember how devastated I was when I found out you two were not dating in high school. Please, tell me everything about how it happened.”

While Caspar and Linhardt, mostly Caspar, told the story of how they finally began dating, Hubert busied himself with pretending he wasn’t staring at Ferdinand. He picked up the loose dirty cups in the kitchen and washed them in the sink, certainly not deeply contemplating loose ginger curls. He wiped crumbs off the counter as he listened to Linhardt recount one of the numerous times he patched Caspar up after he’d cut his leg open at band camp, not sneaking glances at well-defined shoulders. Amber eyes met mint as Caspar admitted that his and Linhardt’s first kiss was when they got locked in the instrument storage room once and Hubert would vehemently deny that his cheeks flushed as he quickly looked back down at the napkins he was collecting.

Hubert had made himself a cup of coffee by the time the story was finished. The pair hated to leave out details, and Ferdinand was only encouraging them with his well-timed gasps and exclamations of intrigue. It was all Hubert could do to not roll his eyes at some points. He nearly expected Ferdinand to applaud when the whole tale was over. He didn’t, but he did say at least twice how much he loved hearing everything. Hubert himself was spared from having to respond as there was a knock at the door. He quickly set his mug down.

“That must be Edelgard and Dorothea,” Hubert announced as he made his way over to the door.

Dorothea blew past him as soon as there was room for her in the doorway. She lifted the bags of takeout food she held in the air. “I made dinner!”

“Fucking finally…” Linhardt grumbled.

“Oh, Ferdie!” Dorothea exclaimed, setting the food down on the coffee table. “It’s been so long! Your hair looks so good, oh my goddess!”

Hubert side-eyed her as she and Ferdinand exchanged pleasantries. So she hadn’t seen him at lunch that day. Wasn’t this the same woman who initially said “Oh that bitch? I hate him” in response to Edelgard asking if she knew much about him? He wouldn’t mention it but it was good ammo to have on hand. If Dorothea and Edelgard ever went through a messy breakup and Dorothea used intimate knowledge she had to impact Edelgard’s career… No. No, Hubert promised he wouldn’t entertain such thoughts anymore. They weren’t productive, not for Hubert, not for Edelgard, not for their relationship.

“You look pensive, my friend.” Well, speaking of Edelgard. She was eyeing him suspiciously. Hubert never liked it when she did that. “Something on your mind? I’d love to talk about it but unfortunately my arms are laden with drinks.” She tilted her head to indicate the several bags of liquor and soft-drink carriers she was holding.

“Please, let me take some of that for you,” Hubert said, reaching for the items in Edelgard’s hands.

She allowed him to take the soft-drinks. “Thank you. Now, let’s get this stuff handed out. We have a date night to get to.”

Hubert was left stammering a rebuttal in her wake as Edelgard moved to her girlfriend’s side. He shook his head and rejoined the others in the living room. Dorothea was handing out food. Hubert did his best to hand out the drinks based on what he remembered of previous orders.

“Right, so we have an ungodly amount of food for Caspar, roughly five chicken nuggets for Linhardt, my objectively perfect burger, and, Edie, here’s your chicken sandwich.” Dorothea handed each person their bag in turn. “Hubie, we got you the same weird quesadilla order you asked for last time. Oh, and Ferdie, we weren’t sure what you’d like and it was kinda last minute so we just got you the same order as Hubie. We figured if you don’t like it, he needs to eat more anyway.”

Ferdinand laughed brightly as he took his food and drink. “He _is_ dreadfully bony. I do think it will be fine, though. Thank you. You did not have to get me anything.”

Dorothea sent a quick glance to Edelgard. “Come on, Ferdie. If you’re going to be part of game night, you have to be part of all of game night. Let’s eat!”

She then plopped herself down in Hubert’s armchair. Even had the audacity to smirk at him while doing it. To add insult to injury, Edelgard perched herself on the arm of the chair, halfway in Dorothea’s lap. Hubert frowned. He turned to the couch to find Caspar and Linhardt sprawled out over the cushions. Linhardt gave him a sarcastically apologetic shrug. The man was a master of conveying extremely specific emotions through vague body language. The only seat left, surely by design, was next to Ferdinand on the loveseat. Hubert pretended that this wasn’t in any way significant as he sat down.

Other than the added element of the man Hubert was pining for, game night proceeded as usual. They started off with an unnecessarily violent game of Uno before breaking out the only other card game university students regularly played.

“I must admit that I have never played Cards Against Humanity,” Ferdinand said, picking up the rulebook and leafing through it.

Linhardt reached over the table and grabbed the pamphlet from his hands. “Don’t worry. If Caspar can get it the first time, you’ll do fine. Ever played Apples to Apples? It’s just like that, but, like, if most the cards were nasty.”

The ginger opened his mouth again, likely to say he’d never played that game either if Hubert had to guess, but then apparently decided better of it. He took the stack of cards Caspar handed him.

“I think Ferdie should be the judge first,” Dorothea suggested. “It might help him get a sense for the usual tone of things.”

Hubert wasn’t sure that was how things usually worked, but he didn’t say anything. There was no way to tell what words would be used against him here.

Ferdinand nodded after the rules were explained to him. A long strand of hair fell forward off his shoulder but got caught on his shirt pocket. At this point Hubert admittedly got a little distracted. He wasn’t sure how long he was thinking about those beautiful locks, or when he played his own card, but he only became conscious of the passage of time when Ferdinand began reading the submitted white cards.

“Ah, you all are coming right out of the gate with this sort of thing, huh? Very well. Here we have ‘Two whales fucking the shit out of each other,’” Ferdinand read.

Hubert choked on his soda. Ferdinand dropped the cards he was holding but Caspar beat him to pounding on the pianist’s back. If Hubert didn’t regain his breath quickly enough the blue-haired man was going to break his spine. He managed to suck in some air and waved his hand dismissively, weakly begging Caspar to stop.

Edelgard was looking at him, eyes wide. “Hubert, are you all right?”

“Fine, fine,” Hubert managed, voice hoarse. “Went down the wrong pipe.” That was _technically_ what had happened. He didn’t have to mention that he had been so shocked by hearing Ferdinand von Aegir properly swear for the first time in his life that he forgot how to drink. He didn’t have to mention that he knew at that moment what little fantasies he allowed himself would be permanently changed after hearing those words come out of that mouth. He didn’t have to admit that he was honestly a little turned on by hearing that beautiful man say the word ‘fuck.’

This was going to be a difficult game.

As the night went on, Hubert grew increasingly aware of Ferdinand’s warmth next to him. At one point he noticed that their thighs were nearly touching and he abruptly stood, loudly declared that he was getting something stronger to drink and asked if anyone else wanted anything, and made sure there was ample space between him and Ferdinand when he sat down again. The only aspect of the evening that seemed to be going in Hubert’s favor was that Dorothea did actually have good taste in liquor. Hubert was positively tipsy by the time they finished their first game of Cards Against Humanity and found that the more he drank, the less he had to worry about accidentally reacting to something Ferdinand did. If he was too out of it to even hear the man, he couldn’t do anything about what he said.

Ferdinand was the only one who wasn’t drinking heavily. Hubert didn’t even notice until he realized the man appeared to be the only one who could still read properly. Of course, at that point they all agreed to call it a night. Caspar and Linhardt immediately retreated to their room, Linhardt already practically asleep.

Hubert was so busy picking up the trash his roommates left behind that he almost didn’t notice Ferdinand getting up to leave. Luckily, or not depending on how one viewed Hubert’s situation, the man was polite enough to announce that he had best be leaving.

“Are you safe to be driving?” Hubert asked, turning to face Ferdinand. He turned too quickly, evidently, judging by the way his vision swam.

The man smiled at him. “You had better not be offering to give me a ride home, Hubert. I can say with great certainty that you are far too inebriated to be driving.”

“No, no,” the pianist argued, deciding against shaking his head. “I’m not stupid. I was going to say, well… Edelgard and Dorothea are staying. There’s an agreement. We keep an air mattress for them. You could… You could stay. If you don’t feel safe to drive, that is.” Hm. Hubert hadn’t processed what he was saying until it was out of his mouth. Perhaps getting drunk wasn’t his wisest decision. Embarrassing.

Ferdinand chuckled softly. “I appreciate the offer, Hubert. Unfortunately, I have somewhere to be quite early tomorrow. I would not have time to go home and get properly dressed. But, thank you.”

Of course. No, of course. He was a busy man. He had his own responsibilities and matters to attend to. Hubert couldn’t expect him to accept an invitation to a spontaneous slumber party. He was being ridiculous even asking in the first place. Ferdinand would have had to sleep on the couch, next to Edelgard and Dorothea’s air mattress. That was no place for a sun god to rest. And what if he rolled over and fell on the girls in the night? It simply wouldn’t do.

Hubert nodded. “Right, of course. Be careful on your way home.”

“Good night, Hubert.”

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Ferdinand reached inside his bag to make sure, for the sixth time, that the package was in there. He sighed in relief when his hand brushed the top of the box and he allowed himself to relax a bit.

It was Friday again, a day that Ferdinand had come to both anxiously await and also fear. If the first three rehearsals with Hubert were any sample size to draw from, there could be no predicting what sort of mood the pianist would be in. First he had been openly hostile, then completely indifferent to Ferdinand’s advances, and then he had invited Ferdinand to some strange triple date. Admittedly he had fun playing games and catching up with the others and he _had_ enjoyed interacting with a slightly drunk Hubert. At one point the man had even leaned against him and Ferdinand thought he would surely perish right then and there.

He wished he could have taken Hubert up on his invitation to stay. Another time, perhaps. When they knew more about each other. There were still many things they had not discussed. Like whether or not Hubert liked men, for instance. Ferdinand was fairly sure that his assumptions were correct, but he would hate nothing more than for it to be revealed that he had misread everything.

Hubert did seem to be growing more comfortable with the idea of their friendship, however. Ferdinand had eaten lunch with him, and Edelgard and Dorothea, several times over the last week. The size of coffee cup Hubert had with him on each occasion was nothing short of alarming. Ferdinand considered texting the man to make sure he was sleeping, but Hubert did not react well the last time his sleep schedule was brought up. So Ferdinand left the matter alone.

Mostly.

But that was a matter for after rehearsal.

Hubert, once again, looked incredibly tired. The bags under his eyes were rivaling his hair in shade. Ferdinand frowned inwardly but gave no indication that he noticed anything. Still, despite the pianist’s obvious lack of rest, the practice session went well. Ferdinand was confident that the second movement of his duo was performance-ready, and they had only been working together for a month.

At the end of rehearsal, instead of immediately packing up his materials as he usually did, Hubert turned on the piano bench to face Ferdinand. “Good work today. Your tone has really opened up since the last time we performed together. It is quite lovely.” There was the smallest grin on his lips.

Ferdinand stepped forward to reach for his water bottle and tripped over his bag. Why on earth did he put it between himself and the piano? He managed to quickly steady himself, but the contents of his open bag were spilled across the floor. Hubert reached down to help collect the items before Ferdinand could stop him. The man picked up the wrapped box.

“What’s this? A gift? What adorable wrapping. Is it for someone you have a crush on?” Hubert asked, a teasing note to his voice.

Ferdinand’s shoulders stiffened and he felt his face flush. “It is a gift,” he declared. “For you, actually.”

“Oh, how cute. You—” Hubert ground to a halt. “I’m sorry, did you say this is for me?”

Firm in his resolve, Ferdinand nodded. “You have just been looking so tired lately, my friend, that I thought you could use a bit of a pick-me-up. It is nothing extravagant, as there is only so much I can afford these days, but it is from the heart. You may refuse it if you wish, but I think if you open that box you will find that my gift is much to your tastes.”

The dark-haired man eyed him suspiciously before gently tearing at the wrapping paper. It was endearing watching him carefully peel back the tape before unfolding each fold. When he finally opened the box itself, Hubert froze. “How did you…?”

“Please, let me explain. I had to briefly enter your kitchen last week to find some napkins after Caspar spilled his drink. You remember that, yes? Well, in my search for napkins, I accidentally stumbled across your coffee stash. I saw that you were almost out of this kind of bean and, well, I saw it while I was at the store and I thought of you.” That was a lot of words. Was that too many words? “I promise I am not stalking you.” That was perhaps a bit much.

“I… Thank you, Ferdinand.” Hubert stared at the bag of coffee beans in his hand. “I, um… In truth, I actually have something for you as well.”

Ferdinand blinked. “You do?”

He watched in silence as Hubert dug around in his messenger bag for what seemed like an hour but must have only been ten seconds. Eventually the man held out a cylindrical tin.

“Hubert!” Ferdinand gasped. “How did you know this is my favorite tea?!”

Hubert blushed, rather adorably if Ferdinand was allowed to comment on it. “Well, I… Truthfully I didn’t know it was your favorite. I was at the store with Edelgard because she was running out of tea, and… Well, the smell reminded me of you.”

Ferdinand gratefully took the tin. He desperately wanted to say something about Hubert’s apparent knowledge of his scent, but decided that was better left for a possible future point in time where they could comfortably tease each other about such things. Instead, he said, “Oh, thank you, Hubert! Thank you so very much! This is such a wonderful gift.”

The pianist coughed into one gloved hand, simultaneously clearing his throat and failing to hide a smile. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“You know what this means, do you not?”

“…Sorry, what?”

“We must drink together! I would offer you a taste of this most excellent tea, but I know very well by now that you prefer coffee. If we can find a coffee pot, I would love to prepare a cup for you.” Ferdinand beamed. There was no point in holding off on sampling their gifts.

Hubert laughed, the most melodious sound Ferdinand had heard all day. “Very well. If we can find the necessary equipment, then I shall prepare the tea.”

There was… something in the air between the two as they walked the halls down to the graduate assistant offices. They were nearly shoulder to shoulder, and neither man said anything when they accidentally bumped into each other. Ferdinand could have sworn they even brushed hands once or twice, and he was surprised how strong the urge was to reach out and grab Hubert’s every time it happened. He refrained, but the desire lingered.

Ferdinand might actually have to do something about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading this chapter, i hope y'all enjoyed  
> tune in next time for some Advanced Ferdibert (if im remembering my timeline right)
> 
> anyway i need to go to sleep immediately or i may pass away  
> comments and kudos are always loved and appreciated <3


	6. Recapitulation, Theme 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a conversation, a dinner, and a sleepover. things get a little spicy and we get some lore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yall!!!! uhhhh first order of business, please mind the rating the change. i dont write Spicy spicy stuff but it does get a lil nsfw in this latest installment. i took a few bold directions with this chapter but i don't really wanna spoil anything >:3c
> 
> lets see what the boys are up to this time, yea?

When Hubert was knocked over by a freshman sprinting to class and spilled his coffee all over the sidewalk, he was certain that it was going to be a horrible day.

When he realized that his first class had been cancelled and he just hadn’t gotten the email, he was _certain_ it was going to be a horrible day.

When the campus coffee shop was closed for cleaning because one of the employees had gotten violently ill behind the counter, he was _certain_ it was going to be a _horrible_ day.

And then he saw Ferdinand.

It was a strange point in Hubert’s life that simply seeing Ferdinand von Aegir could lift his spirits, but here he was. And seeing Ferdinand von Aegir did undeniably lift his spirits. They didn’t even interact; Hubert spotted the man across the student center while he was mourning the loss of the day’s coffee. Ferdinand was, as always, beautiful. His hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail at the base of his neck, a couple strands breaking free and perfectly framing his face. He was dressed relatively casually compared to what Hubert had seen him wear previously, with just a simple buttoned shirt, well-fitting maroon slacks, obnoxiously orange socks, and brown shoes. His shirt sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and Hubert had to try not to think about that too much.

Ferdinand was gone before Hubert could even think to call out to him. Well, there was no need to look desperate. Hubert would see him that evening for rehearsal and the man looked like he was in a hurry to get somewhere.

As Hubert was leaving the student center, he got a text from Bernadetta begging him not to kill her if she asked to reschedule their rehearsal that week. He told her it was fine, not because he had relaxed his scheduling policies and definitely not because he had developed somewhat of a soft spot for the clarinetist after she’d given him a lovely embroidered flower to wear on his lapel. It was exquisite craftsmanship but that was beside the point. Agreeing to Bernadetta’s request gave him time to drive off campus for coffee.

His day was looking up.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Ferdinand had changed clothes.

Hubert stared at the man as he waltzed into the practice room like he owned the whole building. He was now wearing a deep red blazer over a very light blue buttoned shirt with an ornate gold pattern sewn in. His slacks were now black and even more tight-fitting and he’d swapped his shoes in favor of his heeled boots.

“Ferdinand, you—” Hubert started.

“Ah, am I late? My apologies, I had to run home between my last class and now. I thought I had more than enough time, but I almost forgot my flute and then I hit traffic… It was quite the ordeal.” The flutist dragged a hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh.

The pianist shook his head. “No, no, you’re not late. I was just… I was going to say that you…” He faltered, then had a thought. He tore a piece of paper out of the back of his practice journal and quickly scribbled out _You look nice. That outfit works very well for you_. He handed off the sheet to the other man before he could get self-conscious about his handwriting.

Ferdinand’s steps faltered slightly as he accepted and read the paper. “Why, thank you, Hubert! You are looking rather dashing yourself today!”

That wasn’t true. Hubert mumbled out a thanks but it simply wasn’t true. The bags under his eyes were getting worse by the day and his hair was reaching the level of greasy that Edelgard would soon scold him for. He did appreciate the polite compliment though.

“I must say, it is simply _darling_ that you remembered your promise about the compliments. I will have to save this.” The flutist folded up the piece of paper and slipped it inside his blazer. He grinned playfully.

Hubert felt his cheeks warm and he found himself unable to look Ferdinand in the eyes. He watched him put his instrument together in his peripheral vision and then cleared his throat. “We should, um, get started. What did you want to do this evening?”

Ferdinand gave him an odd look but then seemed to become aware of it and quickly shifted to his usual pleasant expression. “Ah, yes. I was hoping that we could run through each of my pieces to check if there are any trouble spots. Then, if there is time remaining, perhaps we could work on those.”

Hubert nodded. He made to sit down at the piano, but he found himself caught in Ferdinand’s gaze. There was something deeper there, something Hubert couldn’t decipher. Ferdinand blinked and Hubert was released from his trance. He stiffly sat down in front of the keyboard and began rehearsal before his mind could wander.

Practice went well. There were no particularly troubling issues and Ferdinand sounded positively lovely as always. They only had to revisit a few small sections of a couple movements, and only to iron out small hiccups. However, as it became clear that they were nearing the end of rehearsal, Ferdinand was noticeably growing anxious.

“Is something not to your satisfaction? We have plenty of time before your recital,” Hubert said, hoping to ease his worries.

Ferdinand looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “What? No, everything is fine. Did I do something to worry you? I’m sorry.”

Something didn’t sit right about what he just said. It was so small that Hubert almost didn’t even notice, but his ears caught on the contraction. Still, he let it slide without further probing. He would hate to ruin any good energy they had managed to build. He would get an explanation soon enough if whatever it was truly bothered Ferdinand that much.

“…Let’s run that last passage one more time,” Hubert said.

He had just readied his hands on the keyboard when Ferdinand blurted out, “Hubert, what are you doing after this?”

“After this? Well, after this run I was going to suggest we call it a night because we will have worked through everything. I assume you mean after rehearsal, in which case I was going to go home and hope my roommates don’t come drunkenly stumbling through our door at three AM.” The dark-haired man knew he was being unintentionally wordy to try to mask his unease. It almost certainly wasn’t working.

Ferdinand fiddled with a lock of his hair. “Ah, so you are relatively free, then? I was… Well, I was wondering if perhaps… Would you like to grab some dinner with me, maybe? There is a most excellent new place not too far from here. I do not know if you have already eaten, but if you have not—”

“I haven’t eaten,” Hubert interrupted him.

“Oh, you have not? Well, if you would not be opposed, I may or may not already have a reservation in place…”

He had a reservation? Was he planning on this? Had he scheduled a dinner with someone else and they cancelled on him and now he was inviting Hubert to fill a place? Who would cancel dinner plans with Ferdinand von Aegir?

Was this a date?

Hubert nearly fell off the piano bench as the thought crossed his mind. There was no possibility that this could be Ferdinand asking him on a date. Hubert had imagined the scenario, because he _had_ imagined it, to be much more involved. Ferdinand was the type of man to buy flowers for the object of his affections, surely. He’d already given Hubert a gift of coffee. _Shit, what if that was a situation-specific alternative…?_

This was probably a date.

…But what if it wasn’t? Hubert couldn’t simply assume that Ferdinand was asking him out just because he could frame their interactions in a romantic light. You could manipulate any sort of information if you thought about it too long from a specific angle. And Ferdinand seemed the type for lengthy and poetic declarations of love, not stammered out and apologetic dinner invitations. Unless Hubert had him pegged wrong this entire time. But if Hubert assumed it was a date and that wasn’t what Ferdinand intended… He couldn’t even begin to imagine the damage that would do to whatever their relationship existed as.

There was literally only one way to resolve this, as much as Hubert was loathe to admit it.

“Ferdinand, is this a date?” he asked, much more forcefully than he intended.

Ferdinand blinked at him. Belatedly Hubert realized he’d been talking still. “Sorry, what was that?”

He hated saying it the first time, being asked to repeat it was surely a punishment from the gods. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“I, um… Well…” The man was floundering. Hubert made a mistake.

“I understand. It was extremely presumptive of me to even ask. I should not have assumed that there was any romantic intention behind your invitation,” he quickly backpedaled.

At the same time, Ferdinand said, “If you do not want it to be a date, it does not have to be.”

Hubert blinked. “Oh. But, if you—”

“No, no, I do not want to make you uncomfortable. I realize I have never mentioned being gay and I have not even asked if you like men.”

“No, Ferdinand, I—”

“So you do not? I am so sorry, Hubert. I appear to have made a mistake. Please accept my sincerest—”

Ferdinand was talking so quickly and becoming so flushed and Hubert couldn’t get a word in to defend himself. He panicked. Before he even knew what he was doing, Hubert was on his feet, reaching out to lay a hand on Ferdinand’s arm. The man finally stopped babbling and stared up at Hubert, eyes wide.

“Listen to me. I would very much enjoy going to dinner with you. In any capacity. If it is not a date, I would enjoy dinner with you as a friend. If it is a date…” Gods, this was embarrassing. “I would enjoy that too.”

“Oh, Hubert… Do you truly mean that? You are not just humoring me?”

Hubert nodded. “Ferdinand von Aegir, will you have dinner with me, as a date?”

Ferdinand exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing. “I would like nothing more, Hubert von Vestra. I am sorry, I should have asked you plainly but I… I got cold feet. I do not know if anyone has told you this before, but you can be quite intimidating.”

“Odd, as that has never seemed to bother you before.” Hubert couldn’t help but smirk. Teasing was familiar ground, something safe to fall back on.

“I dare say nothing we have spoken about has ever mattered this much.”

Hubert felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He was speechless. He briefly entertained the thought that his crush must not have been as obvious as Edelgard suggested since the object of affection himself didn’t even notice. His mind flickered back to the first rehearsal. Gods, had Ferdinand been interested in him back then? Could they have solved all of this a month ago if only one of them was a little braver? And now Hubert couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Ferdinand. His mouth was so close, if Hubert just leaned down slightly…

They weren’t going to get anything else done today.

It didn’t help that Ferdinand was looking up at him almost expectantly. Almost like he wanted…

Hubert cleared his throat and stepped back, away from Ferdinand and his bright, bright eyes. “Well, would you like to continue rehearsal? Or, in light of this new development, do you think it might be better to call it here?”

His imagination was either getting the best of him or Ferdinand looked disappointed. “Ah, right,” the ginger-haired man chuckled, almost nervously. “Perhaps it would be best to end our efforts here. I do not know about you, but I know that I am in no proper shape to even consider making a decent sound at the moment.”

Hubert nodded, discretely trying to air some of the sweat out from his gloves. What was he doing getting so worked up over this? “You make a good point. We’ll have plenty of time next week.” And it wouldn’t do to blur the lines between professional and personal time so readily. If there even was to be such a thing as “personal time” between them. Hubert’s thoughts went unbidden to what Edelgard and Dorothea had insinuated about practice rooms and he felt his ears warm.

Ferdinand mirrored the nod. “Of course, of course. We may be early for the reservation. I, well, I had planned on asking you at the end of our time together tonight but unfortunately you can read me too well!” He laughed airily and Hubert resolved to memorize the sound.

Hubert found he had no further words to voice so he began packing up his materials. Once his books were securely in his bag, he sat on the bench and simply watched Ferdinand go about his business. The man turned once everything was packed away and gathered and startled slightly when he realized the pianist’s eyes were on him.

“I am sorry. Were you waiting a while for me to finish? If I had known I would have attempted to be more of a conversationalist,” Ferdinand said, gripping the shoulder strap of his flute case.

“No need. I enjoy watching you.”

What.

Why did he say that?

Ferdinand’s face was completely red. “I… I am flattered. I must admit, I have done my share of watching you as well.”

Hubert’s collar suddenly felt much too tight. He needed to get out of this room. Whatever jumbled mess his thoughts were must have been evident on his face, as the other man chuckled quietly.

“Should we be going?” Ferdinand asked.

“Yes, let’s.”

He wasn’t ready for this.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Hubert ended up driving. He honestly wasn’t sure how they decided this but there he was behind the wheel. Ferdinand von Aegir was in his passenger seat, going on about how highly Lorenz recommended this restaurant.

Ferdinand von Aegir was in his passenger seat.

Ferdinand von Aegir was in his passenger seat as he drove them to a dinner date.

Hubert only knew he wasn’t dreaming because his dreams were never this pleasant.

As Ferdinand had predicted, they were slightly early for their reservation. The restaurant was quite busy, so they sat on a bench outside to wait. Hubert asked dreadfully dull questions like who Ferdinand’s favorite composers were or if he had any favorite motets (he did). At some point Ferdinand began talking about operas and went off on a tangent about the different productions he’d played in the pit orchestra for and was so engrossed that they almost missed the notification that their table was ready.

“Hm… The wine here is rather expensive and their selection is… somewhat lacking,” Ferdinand said thoughtfully, staring at the menu.

Hubert glanced at the wine menu and couldn’t help but blink, unbelieving, when he saw the prices. “Then let’s not get any. A date doesn’t _have_ to have wine.” He wasn’t sure if that was a proper thing to say, but he received a smile in response so it couldn’t have been too incorrect.

It had been so long since Hubert had been on a date. Actually… Had he ever been on a date before? While his father was alive he sometimes tried to set up “meet and greets” for Hubert with potential women of interest, but these were never more than Hubert finding a way to get the other party to leave within the first ten minutes.

He wasn’t even sure what one was supposed to do on a date. Luckily Ferdinand seemed to have taken the reins on this one. He’d apparently already ordered for the both of them. The food looked good.

If his life depended on it Hubert wouldn’t be able to recall what he said over dinner. But Ferdinand was somehow still on the other side of the table and smiling after they finished eating. Hubert had honestly expected the man to realize he truly was dreadful and try to escape with his dignity. Instead, he was still there, reaching for the check as it was placed on the table.

The check.

Hubert, trying to be a good date, quickly reached for it. His hand landed on top of Ferdinand’s and he quickly recoiled, cheeks burning.

“Please, Hubert, allow me. I am the one who asked you to dinner, after all.”

“I… If you insist.”

“I do,” Ferdinand said with a soft grin. He slipped his card into the check folder and handed it off to the waitress when she returned. Hubert took it upon himself to pull out some cash to provide the tip.

“Thank you for this,” Hubert said. “I… I had a good time.”

“Ah, I quite enjoyed myself as well! I dare say we should hurry out though… I fear we have been occupying this table for far longer than they could have anticipated.” The flutist stood and put on a small show of stretching.

Wait, how long had they been dining? Hubert looked at his watch and blanched when he realized nearly two and a half hours had passed. He dug back into his wallet and added another bill to the tip stack. He grabbed his bag and tried to give the waitress an apologetic nod as they left.

The night had chilled considerably and Hubert found himself shivering slightly on the walk back to the parking lot. He noticed Ferdinand draw his arms close across his chest.

“I would offer you my coat but I’m afraid it might be a bit too… narrow for you,” Hubert said, tugging lightly at his lapel.

Ferdinand laughed. “No, no, it is quite fine. We are almost to the car.”

“…Right…”

The roar of an engine suddenly came up on them. Hubert, in a move a pure instinct, grabbed Ferdinand and pulled him from the path of the motorcycle that came momentarily onto the sidewalk. It wasn’t until several seconds after the fact that Hubert processed what happened.

“ _Asshole!”_ Ferdinand shouted after the reckless driver. Did he know how badly he could have been hurt just then? He turned back to face Hubert. “Thank you… I did not even see them coming…”

Neither had Hubert, but he kept that to himself. He’d slammed his shoulder into some protrusion from the wall he had thrown himself against and the pain was finally setting in. He tried to rub at the sore spot but his hand seemed to become aware that it was against Ferdinand’s waist and refused to move.

They were much closer than Hubert intended but he found he could make no move to distance himself. That odd look that he was seeing more and more of was back on Ferdinand’s face. He was looking up at Hubert with eyes that were somehow blown wide but also heavy-lidded. His hand came to rest on Hubert’s chest.

Hubert cleared his throat and turned his head slightly away. It was time to be brave, something he couldn’t accomplish while looking directly at the man currently pressed against him. “If you’re still upset over the price of those wines… I might have something more to your tastes at my apartment.

Ferdinand blushed. “Are you sure that Linhardt and Caspar would not mind my coming over unannounced?”

“They’re not home. Linhardt said something about a late triple feature horror showing and then drinks. They won’t be back for a while.”

“Well, that is good. I mean, I would hate to inconvenience them by being there. For wine.”

“Right, of course. We should get going then. The wine awaits.”

Hubert really hoped they were on the same page.

It seemed they were certainly on the same page.

They’d had to circle back to campus to collect Ferdinand’s car and reunited at Hubert’s building. But Ferdinand attempted to crowd Hubert against the apartment door as soon as he closed it. However, Hubert wasn’t the type to invite people over under entirely false pretenses.

“Would you like to choose the wine? I think you know where it is.”

The ginger blinked, almost surprised. “Ah, right. The wine. Do not worry, Hubert, I will choose a tantalizing drink for us.”

Hubert wished he was better at deciphering innuendo.

The next thing he knew they were sitting on the couch with wine glasses in hand. Hubert was sure Ferdinand had picked a good wine. He just wished he could taste it over the wave of anxiety that unexpectedly consumed him. If this evening was headed where he thought, and hoped, it was, Hubert wasn’t sure what to do. He never imagined he would be in this situation. He’d only ever been kissed once, and that was solely because Sylvain had been too drunk at a party to tell the difference between him and Felix and caught him by surprise. But he _wanted_ Ferdinand. He was honestly surprised by the strength of his desire.

But what was he supposed to do about it?

As it turned out, he shouldn’t have worried. Half a glass later, Ferdinand made his move. He set his wine glass on the coffee table and turned to squarely face Hubert on the couch.

“I am going to kiss you, if that is all right,” the man announced.

“Please,” Hubert said dumbly, setting his glass down as well.

Ferdinand gingerly laid a hand on Hubert’s knee and slowly leaned in. Something inside Hubert snapped and he latched onto Ferdinand’s blazer and surged forward, closing the distance. He was expecting a chaste first kiss from this man. What he got was anything but. The kiss started out tame enough, but it quickly grew in fervor. Ferdinand’s other hand came up and clutched at the back of Hubert’s neck and the one on his knee strengthened its grip.

It was everything Hubert could have hoped for. And he found himself wanting more. Hubert deepened the kiss but it was Ferdinand who pushed him down onto the couch. It was here, with the flutist now straddling the pianist’s hips, that they paused to recover air.

“You are… quite skilled at this,” Hubert gasped out, his face burning.

Ferdinand laughed sheepishly. “Well, thank you. And you… You are not as unskilled as I feared you might be.”

Hubert decided to take that as a compliment. He tangled his hands in the other man’s hair (which was just as soft as he imagined) and pulled him down into another heated kiss. Hubert had honestly been a little apprehensive about the idea of involving tongues in the whole affair, but found that the sensation intrigued, rather than repulsed, him. However, his attention was quickly drawn elsewhere when he became extremely aware of one of Ferdinand’s knees between his thighs. When Ferdinand moved his mouth from Hubert’s lips to his jaw, he spoke up.

“Wha… What are you…?” Hubert said, in an appropriately articulate manner.

“I want to do something for you,” Ferdinand responded, pressing a kiss lower on his neck.

Hubert still wasn’t entirely sure what he meant until the kisses reached his shirt collar and one of the man’s hands brushed against his belt buckle. “ _Oh._ ” He’d been so preoccupied with the sensation of _Ferdinand_ that he hadn’t even noticed how hard he was.

“‘Oh,’ indeed,” Ferdinand chuckled.

“You don’t… You don’t have to do this.”

“I know, but I would like to. Would you be amenable to the idea?”

Damn him for being able to say words like “amenable” while asking for consent without sounding ridiculous. Hubert couldn’t even say it back to him. He settled for nodding instead.

Ferdinand smiled and began slowly unbuttoning Hubert’s shirt, kissing at each new bit of exposed skin as he went. Hubert literally didn’t have the vocabulary to describe how wonderful this moment was. It was like he’d somehow been granted a glimpse into heaven. And heaven had such lovely hair.

The sun god incarnate was on the third button when Hubert heard the front door lock click open.

“ _Shit!”_ Hubert hissed, shooting bolt upright and pushing Ferdinand toward the other end of the couch in the process. The man looked confused and slightly hurt until he saw the door opening and shared Hubert’s alarm.

Hubert, panicking, pulled a throw pillow into his lap and snatched his wine glass from the coffee table. Ferdinand threw back the remainder of his wine as if it were a large shot, which would have been quite impressive in any other circumstance, before going about appearing like he was nonchalantly pouring himself another glass.

Linhardt and Caspar paused as soon as they entered the threshold of the living room. They looked between the two men on the couch before looking at each other. Caspar looked far too happy for Hubert’s liking.

“Ah, good evening, you two!” Ferdinand said cheerfully. Hubert really admired his impression of a man who hadn’t just almost been caught trying to initiate a blowjob.

“…Yeah, I guess you could call it evening. I would have said night, probably. Anyway,” Linhardt yawned, “hey, Ferdinand. Hubert didn’t tell us you were coming over.”

Hubert did not appreciate the look his roommate shot him.

“My apologies for intruding! It was a bit of a spontaneous invitation.” The man might have actually been convincing if his face wasn’t as red as the wine he held.

“I bet.”

“What happened to your movies?” Hubert cut in. “I recall your verbal essay on why two in the morning is the peak time to view one of those particular films.”

Caspar laughed heartily, as he always did. “Lin got totally spooked before the first one was even over! We decided to get ice cream instead and call it a night.”

Hubert squinted at Linhardt. “Aren’t you…?”

“Lactose intolerant? Yes. So, I’ll be up for a while if either of you two need anything,” Linhardt said, a challenge in his eyes. His stomach made an unsettlingly loud and distressing sound. “Ah, speak of the devil. I gotta jet.”

“G’night, guys!” Caspar called over his shoulder as he herded his now hunched over boyfriend into their bedroom.

The room was silent, save for the sound of Ferdinand gulping down the glass of wine he had just poured, and then another. Hubert’s phone buzzed.

**Linhardt von H. [11:57 PM]:** you are Not subtle

**Linhardt von H. [11:57 PM]:** put a sock on the door or smth next time for fucks sake

**Linhardt von H. [11:57 PM]:** or like. you have a bedroom cmon man other people sit on that couch i dont wanna be watching tv and have to think about how much hubert cum is in those cushions

Hubert practically threw his phone down onto the coffee table and took a long drink from his glass. 

“Well, ah…” Ferdinand started.

“I’m sorry,” Hubert said.

Ferdinand shook his head. “It’s quite all right.” Hubert doubted that from the way he was speaking. “But, um… I’m a little worried that maybe I shouldn’t be driving.”

If he had given up on his ridiculous (read: endearing) speech pattern, Hubert was certain that he shouldn’t be behind the wheel.

“You can stay, that is, if you would be _amenable_ ,” Hubert offered before he could stop himself.

Ferdinand smiled. “Oh, thank you! I promise I won’t be a bother. I can sleep right here on this couch. I just need a blanket or two and I’ll be—”

Hubert frowned. “You are not sleeping on this couch. It will damage your spine beyond repair.”

“Ah, is that why your back looks the way it does?”

Ignoring the jab, he pressed on before he lost his nerve. “My room has more than enough space for the both of us.”

“I might enjoy that.” Ferdinand was looking at him with a very loving expression that Hubert wasn’t fully equipped to comprehend at the moment.

“Excellent. I will grab you some clothes to sleep in, but first we need to get you some water.”

Hubert collected their now empty glasses and the wine bottle to bring back into the kitchen as he fetched Ferdinand’s water. He realized it might not be a bad idea for him to have some as well because on top of the wine he couldn’t remember the last drink of water he’d had. He quickly filled up his dirty glass and downed it, grimacing slightly at the taste of extremely watered down wine. After putting the wine glasses in the sink and corking the wine bottle, he pulled a clean cup down from the cupboard for Ferdinand.

When he returned to the couch, Ferdinand was staring intensely at his phone.

“Everything all right?” Hubert asked, setting the glass down on the table.

Ferdinand looked up, slightly startled. “Oh! Yes! Sorry, I think I have forgotten how to read.” He squinted back down at the screen which, Hubert noted, was now dark.

Hubert picked the water back up and pushed it toward the clearly inebriated man. “Ah, if that’s all. I think it’s time to get you to bed. Come on, drink up.” He jostled the glass slightly to draw attention to it.

The ginger gratefully took the glass. Hubert worried for a moment that Ferdinand was going to drop it but he managed to drink without incident.

“Thank you, Hubert,” he yawned as he set the cup on the table. “And thank you for letting me stay. I’m suddenly quite exhausted…”

Hubert just nodded and helped Ferdinand to his feet. He wasn’t _that_ drunk and didn’t need that much help getting around which Hubert was grateful for. It gave him more brainpower to focus on not thinking about how he was leading Ferdinand von Aegir to his bedroom. Instead he decided he would worry about the fact that he definitely didn’t have any shirts that would fit the man. Ferdinand all but collapsing against him when he closed the door didn’t help his train of thought at all.

He gently pushed Ferdinand off. “I have some sweatpants I think will fit you, but as far as shirts go…”

“That’s fine, I don’t need a shirt.”

Hubert was very afraid of what that meant for his sanity until Ferdinand shed his blazer and dress shirt, leaving him in his undershirt. The tight shirt really did nothing to hide anything, but it was better than it not being there at all.

“See? I’ve got a shirt!” Ferdinand gestured at his torso.

Hubert cleared his throat. “So you do. Let me find those pants.” He turned to rummage through his dresser drawers. Gods, he really hoped he still had that slightly too large pair of sweatpants he’d been given. The length might be an issue but anything that fit Hubert’s scrawny legs properly certainly could not contain Ferdinand’s powerful thighs. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

He stood and turned back around to find the other man sprawled across his bed. It was almost endearing. Almost. Hubert threw the pants at the prone form.

“Hey!” Ferdinand cried when he was struck across the face.

“Get up and get changed. You’ll ruin those slacks if you try to sleep in them,” Hubert said, heading toward the bathroom with his own nightclothes to give the man some privacy.

With the bathroom door securely closed behind him, Hubert let out a sigh. Damn his roommates. Well, it wasn’t quite right of him to be upset with them. He hadn’t warned them that he was bringing someone over and it wasn’t their fault for walking in on something they had no idea was happening. Maybe. Hubert was too tired to think like this. He quickly changed into his loose-fitting t-shirt and flannel pants but as he folded his clothes from the day, he froze.

His hands.

How could he have forgotten about his hands?

Ferdinand had never seen him without his gloves on. Could he sleep with gloves on? Certainly it would be odd, but Ferdinand might be drunk enough that he wouldn’t even notice. And if Hubert woke first he would have time to get dressed and then the gloves wouldn’t seem out of place. But if he did notice, Hubert wouldn’t know how to explain it.

Hubert had never talked to Ferdinand about his hands. He’d never talked to anyone other than Edelgard about his hands, and that was only because she was more or less the reason they looked the way they did. That conversation was a big step in their relationship changing from “star performer and lackey accompanist” to “friends.”

He stared down at the mess of scars past his mid-forearms, a constant reminder of the man he used to be.

_Edelgard had to succeed. This used to be Hubert’s only mission in life: to guarantee her success. He was too young and blinded by devotion to see that she could have accomplished this on her own merit. And he would have done anything,_ anything _, to ensure she took the place in the world that she deserved. This usually involved sabotaging auditions or other accompanists. Hubert was no stranger to ruining expensive instruments to make sure that another violinist was just noticeably out of tune. He was not unfamiliar with the process of jamming a key or making sure a pedal stuck when another pianist was performing. He was not above threatening physical violence and even used to carry several knives on his person at all times._

_It was his and Edelgard’s greatest secret that he’d once killed someone._

_He honestly hadn’t meant to go through with it. He had cornered one of Edelgard’s rivals after the first round of auditions for a prestigious solo position. He didn’t know the man well; he was relatively new to the same scene as Hubert’s Lady but, unfortunately for him, he was a wonderful musician._

_Hubert had only meant to scare him. He had threatened him, and to truly put the fear of the gods into him Hubert was going to act like he was following through._

_He had planned to start a small fire in the man’s home office, just large enough to singe a few things, and leave an appropriate note. He hadn’t predicted the room would be so damned flammable. The fire leapt to the curtains, the desk, and the piles of loose documents faster than Hubert could contain it. As he tried desperately to quell the flames at the desk the room around him was engulfed._

_Part of a bookcase collapsed across the doorway._

_He was trapped. Hubert frantically beat at the single window in the room, but the glass was far too thick for his weak frame to break it._

_He wasn’t going to die here. He couldn’t. Edelgard needed him. Yes, Edelgard would never forgive him if he got himself killed like this. She wasn’t even aware of the lengths he took to protect her. This would be possibly the worst way for her to find out. And that simply wouldn’t do._

_Hubert scrambled over to the fallen bookcase and hesitated in front of it. He knew what he had to do, though he wasn’t happy about it. He just prayed to all the gods he didn’t believe in that this didn’t completely destroy his hands._

_He had nothing without his hands._

_It took all of his strength to haul the heavy, burning wood away from the door. By the time he was able to get the door open, his arms were burning, metaphorically, but not as much as his hands were burning, literally. Hubert held his poor hands close to his chest, trying to block out the pain as he navigated through the house. He was halfway down the hallway to the front door when someone came down the stairs in front of him._

_“You,” the violinist said in disbelief. “You crazy bastard.”_

_Hubert backpedaled as the man reached for… Oh, fuck, he had a gun. Hubert turned and ran, hearing the shot ring out behind him. Luckily the man was a musician and not a marksman and the round crashed through a large window instead._

_There was a second crash. Louder, and accompanied by a grunt of pain. Hubert stopped and turned back, unsure of what exactly possessed him to do so. He was shocked at the scene before him. The large chandelier hanging above the staircase in the entryway had fallen. The violinist lay beneath it, unmoving._

_There was a crash somewhere else. Hubert had been in the burning building too long. He needed to get out. He couldn’t feasibly navigate through the fallen light fixture, so he did the next best thing. He threw his body at the damaged window, using the bullet hole’s structural damage to help him break through. He instinctively put his hands out to catch himself, slicing his palms and fingers on the shards of broken glass that hit the ground before he did._

_Hands bloodied and burned, Hubert ran off into the night._

_He’d told Edelgard he came down with a horribly contagious cold that next week and started wearing gloves as soon as his hands healed enough to allow him to play again._

Hubert shook himself out of the memory, bringing his focus back to his now shaking fingers. He couldn’t tell Ferdinand any of that. He would almost certainly go to jail if anyone other than Edelgard knew what he’d done. She honestly wasn’t even right in sheltering him like this, but he supposed she had a strange understanding of where he was in life.

That wasn’t the point.

He had to figure out what to do with his hands.

Hubert had decided that wearing gloves to bed was not the right play, for several reasons, but that only left him with the option of not wearing gloves. Which meant Ferdinand would see his hands. And then he would ask, that curious bastard.

But what if he didn’t?

Ferdinand was curious, but he was also bound by whatever weird social rules he created for himself. He was polite, irritatingly so sometimes. He simply might not ask. And if Hubert explicitly requested that Ferdinand say nothing about his scars…

That just might work. It was at least worth a shot.

Hubert exited the bathroom, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“There you are!” Ferdinand had already tucked himself into bed and looked like he might have been asleep before the door was opened.

Hubert turned on his bedside lamp and flipped off the overhead light before hesitating at the side of the bed. It really was best to just get it out there. “Ferdinand, I have a request to make of you.”

“Mmm, yes?” the man yawned, nestling deeper into the blanket.

“Please don’t ask about my hands…”

“…Your hands? I— Hm. Very well. Consider them disregarded. Is that all?”

“I… Yes. That’s all.” That was easier than expected.

Ferdinand smiled sleepily. “Good. Well… Good night, Hubert…” He sounded like he was already drifting off and Hubert couldn’t resist the tug at the corner of his lips.

“Good night, Ferdinand.” Hubert crawled into bed and stole one last glance at the man next to him before cutting off the light and plunging the room into darkness.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Hubert awoke groggily the next morning, slowly becoming aware of his senses one at a time. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t startled awake by something, whether it was his own mind or an alarm. This feeling was much more pleasant. He was comfortable. There was a nice warmth at his back. …And a weight laying over his side? He blinked open his eyes. Strands of ginger hair curled gently into his field of vision.

Oh. Ferdinand.

Ferdinand von Aegir was spooning him. One of his knees was tucked between Hubert’s legs.

Hubert decided he might not mind waking up like this. Except for the fact that he was painfully hard. And there was no pretending that he could just will it away with Ferdinand pressed up against him. The taller man carefully, excruciatingly carefully, untangled himself from the embrace and sighed in relief when he managed not to wake the other man. He moved silently and awkwardly to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh set of clothes on his way.

He quickly and methodically got in the shower, relishing the feeling of the water on his too-hot skin. He tried directing his mind to his schedule for the day, what he needed to practice, what Edelgard had said she was doing. Anything other than the man currently curled up in his bed. He couldn’t let his thoughts wander to Ferdinand von Aegir or his incredibly soft hair or his surprisingly firm body or… Goddammit.

Hubert grimaced. He wasn’t going to be able to distract himself from this. There was only one thing to be done. As much as he felt odd about masturbating to thoughts of the man on the other side of the door, he usually felt odd about masturbating at all. So this wasn’t too different.

It was over quickly, at least Hubert hoped the time was as short as it seemed. If he had taken too long in the bathroom and Ferdinand was awake by the time he exited, he didn’t know what he’d do. Thankfully, luck was on Hubert’s side and when he reentered the bedroom Ferdinand was still peacefully asleep. His hair was fanned out around him in an absolute mess. Hubert wished he had asked if Ferdinand usually slept with a braid in. _Next time_ , he thought, oddly hopeful for once.

He allowed himself one more lingering glance before quietly slipping out of the bedroom. He moved directly to the kitchen and began making a pot of coffee on autopilot. Perhaps he could nab some of Linhardt’s tea for Ferdinand as well…

“Were you jacking off in the shower?” Linhardt’s sudden voice startled Hubert so badly he almost dropped the mug he was grabbing.

“What.” Hubert stared at the two men on the couch and tried not to think about what he’d been doing in that exact spot just eight hours ago. It was rather easy, actually, as he was busy being wrapped in the mortification of knowing his roommate was aware of what he’d just been doing.

Linhardt chuckled. “Shit, no need for the old Vestra Glare. I was just kidding. Water was just on for longer than usual. Sorry. Was that inappropriate? I ask Caspar all the time.”

“And the answer’s usually yes!” Caspar laughed.

“Please stop talking,” Hubert groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, maybe he had a guest in there,” Caspar said with a wink.

At that moment, while Hubert was floundering to think of a response, Ferdinand appeared in the bedroom doorway. He looked adorably disheveled, his undershirt ridding up on one side and the sweatpants he’d borrowed from Hubert sagging around his hips. His hair was going to be a nightmare to untangle. Hubert found himself aching to help.

“Nah,” Linhardt sighed, shaking his head. He gestured toward Ferdinand. “Look, he’s not even wet.”

“ _E-Excuse me?!_ ” Ferdinand nearly yelped, his face an impressive shade of red.

Caspar hummed in a manner he probably thought was scholarly. “You’ve got a point. He couldn’t have been in the shower unless Hubert has the best hair dryer ever.”

“Which is extremely doubtful,” the green-haired man laughed.

Ferdinand shot a desperate and confused glance over to Hubert. “What… What are they talking about?”

“Nothing, ignore them.” Hubert glared at his roommates.

Linhardt put his hands up in a weak defensive move. “We were just joking around. Good morning, Ferdinand. Rough night?”

“I slept rather well, actually! My hair will certainly be a beast to wrangle and I am afraid I have a headache, but it is far from the worst I have felt after drinking too much. And Hubert was a perfect gentleman, letting me stay here and borrow some clothes,” Ferdinand said with a soft smile. Hubert busied himself with the coffee to hide his blush.

“Well. That’s boring,” Linhardt sighed. Hubert heard the sound of one of the man’s gaming systems starting up. He really should be using his time to practice, but at least he would leave them alone.

Hubert took a grounding sip of his coffee before looking back up. Ferdinand was directly on the other side of the counter. He smiled when their eyes met and Hubert couldn’t help the twitch of his lips in response.

“Do you want anything to drink? I think we have some tea somewhere in here.” The dark-haired man made a small show of looking around at the cabinets.

Ferdinand shook his head. “Thank you, but no. I really should be getting back to my place. I have quite a lot of work to get done. Also, everything I need to manage this mane is still in my bathroom.” He tossed a clump of curls over his shoulder for emphasis.

Hubert tried to hide his disappointment. “Of course.”

He helped collect all of Ferdinand’s belongings while the man was getting dressed in the bathroom. He finished his first cup of coffee and went out to pour himself a second before Ferdinand was done.

“I can wash these and return them to you,” Ferdinand said, clutching the borrowed clothes in his arms.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can wash them myself,” Hubert scoffed. “Just throw them wherever.”

Ferdinand carefully folded the pants and laid them on Hubert’s bed. “If you insist…”

“I do. That way they’ll be here if you ever… well, if you need them again.”

The ginger man smiled. Hubert escorted him to the door, uncertain if he should try to initiate any sort of conversation on the way. The silence wasn’t especially uncomfortable, so he kept his mouth shut until he opened the door.

“…I had a good time last night,” he said, hoping his roommates couldn’t hear him.

Ferdinand reached up and tenderly rubbed his arm. “I also had a very enjoyable evening, even if it did not end exactly how we may have liked. I am truly sorry I have to go so soon.”

“I understand, it’s ok.”

“I will text you when I get home. Perhaps we can talk later tonight if I have time.”

Hubert nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Excellent.” Ferdinand rose up on the balls of his feet and pressed a quick kiss to Hubert’s lips. “I will see you soon, darling.”

Hubert stood in the entryway, a gloved hand to his lips, long after the other man had departed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its not fire emblem content if hubert hasnt canonically killed a man and should probably be in jail. does it help that it was a little bit of an accident????? idk look this is fire emblem fic you aren't supposed to take it too seriously
> 
> tune in next time for some Developing Relationship
> 
> also uhhh feel free to come find and/or yell at me over on tumblr (@asymmetric-ace) or twitter (@runthelongkon)


	7. Recapitulation, Theme 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the relationship is discovered and things continue to happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello welcome back! uhh so first, about this chapter. its not exactly An Ending but it is as much as i have written and doesnt end on any sort of unresolved plot points. so, all this to say this chapter will be functioning as the end unless i get inspired to write more in the future.  
> things get a lil spicier in this chapter too just sayin not but too spicy dont get excited
> 
> so with that all out of the way, let's get in to it!

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:05 AM]:** I am just letting you know that I have made it home safely. I truly had a wonderful evening. I would love to schedule a reprise sometime.

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:06 AM]:** That is, if you would be amenable to it.

**Hubert [11:07 AM]:** I think I might be amenable to the idea. That is to say, I would enjoy more of your company.

**Hubert [11:09 AM]:** I’m sorry, I’m not good at this. Emotions are difficult. I would be overjoyed if we could go on a second date.

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:11 AM]:** You are doing wonderfully, Hubert.

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:13 AM]:** Say, would you mind terribly if I told Lorenz about how our date went? I have been consulting him for romantic advice here and there and he would be most upset if there was a development he was not aware of.

**Hubert [11:15 AM]:** Only if you don’t mind me telling Edelgard. She will surely hear something from my roommates and I would rather she get the details from me.

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:16 AM]:** I have no objections!

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:30 AM]:** Lorenz, my friend, I have the most wonderful news!

**Lorenz Hellmann Gloucester [11:35 AM]:** mornin ferdie its claude lmao ill wake lorenz up for ya hes been sleepin for too long anyway

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:36 AM]:** Oh, thank you, Claude!

**Lorenz Hellmann Gloucester [11:45 AM]:** Good morning, Ferdinand. What is this news?

**Ferdinand von Aegir [11:46 AM]:** Guess who went on a date with none other than Hubert von Vestra last night??

**Lorenz Hellmann Gloucester [11:47 AM]:** FERDIE

**Lorenz Hellmann Gloucester [11:47 AM]:** TELL ME EVERYTHING

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

**Lady Edelgard [11:18 AM]:** Hubert, would you care to explain to me why I received a text from Linhardt in the middle of the night saying “control your dog?”

**Hubert [11:19 AM]:** No.

**Lady Edelgard [11:19 AM]:** Hubert.

**Hubert [11:20 AM]:** Fine.

**Hubert [11:22 AM]:** Linhardt may have been surprised to come home and find out I had invited someone over.

**Lady Edelgard [11:23 AM]:** Someone?? Who would you invite over so late besides Dorothea and I??

**Lady Edelgard [11:30 AM]:** Hubert.

**Lady Edelgard [11:30 AM]:** HUBERT.

**Lady Edelgard [11:31 AM]:** Did you… have a date??????

**Hubert [11:35 AM]:** Just so that you don’t get incomplete details from Linhardt, yes. I had a date. It went well, and I invited Ferdinand back to the apartment for some wine.

**Lady Edelgard [11:36 AM]:** YOU WENT ON A DATE WITH FERDINAND AND YOU DIDN’T TELL US???????????

**Lady Edelgard [11:37 AM]:** hi Hubie, Thea here TELL US EVERY DETAIL IMMEDIATELY!!! WHY DIDN’T WE KNOW

**Hubert [11:40 AM]:** He asked me to dinner after our rehearsal yesterday. We had a good time. Wine at the restaurant was far too expensive, so I offered drinks at home. Ferdinand drank too much to drive safely and slept here. Nothing. Happened.

**Lady Edelgard [11:42 AM]:** Why was Linhardt upset about any of this if nothing happened?

**Hubert [11:45 AM]:** …

**Hubert [11:46 AM]:** He and Caspar may have come home while we were making out on the couch.

**Lady Edelgard [11:49 AM]:** HUBERT!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Lady Edelgard [11:49 AM]:** HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Hubert [11:50 AM]:** I’m not sure if this is Edelgard or Dorothea at this point.

**Lady Edelgard [11:51 AM]:** Thea here. Are you telling me that Lin walked in on you guys getting hot and heavy on the first date

**Lady Edelgard [11:51 AM]:** Never would have pegged Ferdie as such a horny bastard

**Hubert [11:52 AM]:** I object to your exact phrasing, but yes that is roughly what happened.

**Lady Edelgard [11:55 AM]:** I have no words. This is incredible. Please keep us updated. We’ll talk more about this.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

**Lorenz Hellmann Gloucester [12:13 PM]:** Ferdinand von Aegir, you absolute scoundrel. You almost got caught sucking dick on the first date?????

**Ferdinand von Aegir [12:14 PM]:** Please do not say it like that…

**Lorenz Hellmann Gloucester [12:15 PM]:** And then you literally slept with him. Do you really mean to say you didn’t have sex?

**Ferdinand von Aegir [12:17 PM]:** Truthfully!! We did not! We have not discussed that yet. Or other important conversations relating to that possibility.

**Lorenz Hellmann Gloucester [12:19 PM]:** Ah, I see. Well, I wish you luck. Hubert may not be one of my favorite people, but if he makes you happy, I’m rooting for you.

**Ferdinand von Aegir [12:20 PM]:** Thank you, my friend.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

They saw each other more often than usual in that next week, surely going out of their respective ways to find the other. At least, Ferdinand knew he was taking more complicated routes to classes in hopes of running into his… boyfriend? Lover? Partner? Paramore? What _were_ they exactly? Ferdinand wanted to ask, but they had not even been on an official second date yet. And Friday afternoon just before rehearsal was most certainly not the best time to ask.

He almost hated remembering that they had practice that evening. The charged tension in their brief interactions and even group lunches was almost more than Ferdinand could bear. He feared what he might do if they were alone, isolated. He had to keep his resolve firm.

He would never hear the end of it from Lorenz if he finally snapped in a practice room.

So of course that is what was destined to happen.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Hubert was already sweating and there were still ten minutes before Ferdinand was meant to arrive. He was being ridiculous and he knew it, working himself up into an anxious mess over nothing. He knew how to compartmentalize things. Remaining professional should be no problem. His feelings for Ferdinand would have done him in far earlier if he were unable to separate his thoughts. Still… That was before they had acknowledged mutual desire. Or went on a date. Or almost…

The door opened, startling Hubert from the depths of his mind.

“I am so terribly sorry for being late, Hubert. I had run out of water and…”

Ferdinand was still talking but Hubert was caught on the first sentence. He was late? What time was it? How long had he been lost in thought? Hubert looked at his watch. It was only five minutes past their scheduled start time, but Hubert didn’t like that fifteen minutes had slipped away from him so easily. This might be harder than he thought. He had to get himself together.

Hubert interrupted the other man in the middle of his ongoing monologue as to why he was late. “Ferdinand, it’s ok. Really, I didn’t even realize.”

“Oh!” Ferdinand blinked. “Well then… Hi! It is good to see you. Would you maybe like to grab a drink after this?”

“Are you going to ask me on a date at every rehearsal?” Hubert chuckled.

“It could become a regular event, if you do not object.”

“I wouldn’t mind. We should probably get through rehearsal first. You _do_ have a performance coming up, after all.” That, and if Hubert doesn’t have the clear distinction between personal and professional time he’ll probably combust on the spot.

The ginger adjusted his grip on his flute case like he just remembered he was holding it. “Right! Yes! Of course! There was one spot I would like for us to work on, but other than that I think we will be fine with just running through everything.”

They stared at each other for a moment too long before Hubert managed to pull his gaze away. He turned and started organizing his music for the day. The air in the room was already thick with tension. He cleared his throat. “Let’s do the run-throughs first, just in case we catch something else that needs work. I’d hate to run out of time.”

Ferdinand nodded and they got to work.

The practice room was hot.

Hubert had noticed it was a little warm when he first entered, but he didn’t think much of it. The music building’s central air system was never the most reliable. He was used to being slightly uncomfortable while he practiced. He wasn’t used to it being so hot that he had to shed layers. He’d taken off his jacket at the door but after the run of the first piece he was forced to take off his sweater, leaving him in his plain buttoned shirt. Between movements of the next piece he undid the top couple buttons and at the end of it he rolled up his sleeves. He saw Ferdinand take a long sip of water, so at least he wasn’t the only one feeling the heat.

It occurred to Hubert that he must look strange with his sleeves rolled up but gloves still on. It wasn’t like he could just take the gloves off. And Ferdinand hadn’t commented on it. He was too busy… unbuttoning his shirt obscenely low. Hubert swallowed thickly. Good gods, he could almost see the man’s stomach. He found his gaze caught on the fine dusting of ginger hair across Ferdinand’s expansive chest.

“Like what you see?”

Hubert’s eyes snapped up to Ferdinand’s face. “You… I… Um…” he stammered. The flutist had the audacity to smirk at him.

“Do you think you can keep your eyes on your music long enough to finish rehearsing?” Ferdinand teased, cocking one hip out. Now he was just being cruel. Rather than try to sputter out a response, Hubert turned his attention back to the piano.

They played through the section that they were having issues with several times, but just couldn’t find success.

“It’s just not lining up…” Hubert sighed. “Ferdinand, come look at the piano part and see if there’s something I’m missing.”

Suddenly, Ferdinand’s head was over his shoulder, leaning unnecessarily close to his own face. Hubert realized he made a mistake. A warm chest pressed against his back as the other man looked closer at the music. There was a hand on his arm. All he could think about were the points of contact. And Ferdinand’s breath against his ear as he spoke.

_Fuck…_

Ferdinand reached out in front of Hubert and tapped one of the measures in front of him. “I see the issue. I just realized I have been playing a rhythm wrong this entire time! I will have to work that out in my practice time…”

Hubert leaned forward to look closer at the music, definitely not to distance himself from the body so close behind him. “Huh. I never even noticed.” A drop of sweat slid down his back. He couldn’t take much more of this. Maybe he could say he was sick and call off the rest of rehearsal, or—

Strong hands grabbed his shoulders and twisted him around on the bench. Hubert was so startled that he turned fully to face the culprit and at that point he was doomed. Ferdinand was staring him down, a slightly mischievous expression on his face.

“You are looking a little warm, my dear… Would you care to discard another layer or two?”

He wasn’t being subtle. Hubert could see Ferdinand’s wide-blown pupils, could hear the low notes in his voice.

“Ferdinand, we can’t… You don’t really want to… Not _here_?” Hubert tried to move back out of the other man’s space, but his elbows collided with the piano keyboard and the sound startled him back forward again.

The flutist grinned before connecting his lips to the pianist’s exposed throat. “My darling… It is… after regular hours… on a Friday evening…” he said in-between kisses. “I can assure you we are the only ones in the practice rooms.”

Hubert gulped. He had a point. He had a very logically sound point.

“I have been thinking about our date all week. I want to finish what I started.”

Surely Hubert’s entire body was flushed at this point. How could this man say, even _think_ , these things without getting embarrassed? Ah, he probably needed to reply. “I… Um… I’d like that… I think.” Very seductive.

It seemed to work, though. Ferdinand made a low noise in the back of his throat and began kissing down the path of Hubert’s open shirt. Just as Hubert thought his pants couldn’t get any tighter, the ginger-haired man sunk to his knees and rested his hands on Hubert’s thighs to nudge his legs apart.

Here Ferdinand hesitated.

“Y-You don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” Hubert stammered out.

“It is not that. I… I am sorry, I got a bit ahead of myself.” Ferdinand shook his head. “I am very much willing, and wanting, to do this for you. However, I do think there is something I need to tell you first, for my conscience.”

For his conscience? What? What was this important information? He wasn’t married, was he? Hubert didn’t think he could take it if he found out Ferdinand had secretly been married this entire time. No, no, he couldn’t let his imagination run wild.

“What is it?” Hubert asked, trying to sound gentle despite the tone not typically being in his wheelhouse.

Ferdinand dropped one of his hands to rest on his own leg. “This is not how I imagined this going, truly. I wanted to have a whole conversation but here we are… You may have already connected some dots, or even know, but it is important to me to make sure that you know this. But… Well, I—”

“Oh, gods, you’re married.” Did he seriously just blurt that out?

“…What? No! I am not married! I was going to tell you I am trans. Why would you think I am married??”

“I don’t know. I panicked. So, you’re not married?”

“Decidedly not!”

Hubert breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, good…”

“But, you, um… You are ok with my being trans? I know… um, well, that… Well, you know…” Ferdinand wasn’t looking at him.

“Ferdinand. Why would that be a problem?” Hubert placed his hand over the one that was still on his thigh.

The man floundered slightly, looking a bit embarrassed. “I did not… Well, I did not know what you might um, be used to, I suppose… I did not want you to be surprised when you discovered I lack… certain equipment. I just…”

Hubert tapped his hand to stop him. “Ferdinand von Aegir, I cannot stress enough how little experience I have in anything outside of playing piano.”

“You mean… You have never…?”

It didn’t matter what the end of that sentence was. Hubert shook his head.

Ferdinand blinked. “Well. That slightly changes the frame around what I am about to do. I am… honored to be the first person you trust with this.”

That was somehow more embarrassing than anything before it. Hubert had to look away and clear his throat. “Please don’t make a big deal out of this…”

“It is a big deal, Hubert! I want to make sure you enjoy this.”

“I will enjoy anything you do to me. Please, just get on with it before you completely ruin the mood.”

Ferdinand’s expression quickly shifted to that heavy look again. “Mm, yes, _sir_.”

Hubert decided he liked this much better than jerking himself off in the shower.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

As Hubert was driving home that night, alone, he was perturbed.

Their post-rehearsal drink date had gone well, short as it was. Ferdinand had somewhere he needed to be early in the morning so he couldn’t risk more than one actual drink, but Hubert had enjoyed his company all the same. The date wasn’t the issue.

The issue was that Hubert was a fucking idiot. He shouldn’t have assumed Ferdinand was cis. He knew better than to assume he knew a person’s life. And because he was such a fucking idiot, he’d been completely unprepared to reciprocate what Ferdinand had done for him in the practice room. Well, he would have been completely unprepared to do anything in any case, inexperienced as he was. But it felt worse knowing that because he’d made assumptions he didn’t think to prepare for anything. He wasn’t even sure how to learn anything in preparation.

Hmm… Well.

That wasn’t exactly true. He had one way that came to mind.

It would be supremely embarrassing and likely get him teased for the rest of his life. At least it would be reliable information.

Hubert hesitated by the front door after entering his apartment. He had to be brave, there was no backing down now. He could hear the sounds of the TV and as he entered the apartment proper he could see his roommates cuddled up on the couch. As was usual for them it was highly suggestive cuddling. At least they’d probably be in the mood to discuss this.

“Hey, Hubert!” Caspar called out. “Where’ve ya been? We got worried when you weren’t lurking around in your room or your chair.”

Hubert didn’t answer and simply sat himself down on the edge of the coffee table, facing his roommates.

Linhardt looked intrigued. “Woah, what’s with the serious look? Did we forget something we promised to do?”

“No, I…” Hubert took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I need some advice.”

“From us??” Caspar gasped. “What could we know that you don’t? No offense, babe, you’re super smart.” This last bit was addressed to Linhardt who just nodded in response.

“You two have had sex, yes?” It was best to just blurt it out. That way he couldn’t get embarrassed thinking about what to say.

Linhardt burst into laughter. “Oh, come on. We’re not dumb enough to think you haven’t accidentally heard us fooling around before. The walls here are nice but they aren’t _that_ thick.”

Hubert tried to ignore how hard he was blushing. “Please be serious. This is hard enough for me to do as it is.”

“Sorry, sorry. Do you need us to give you The Talk, is that what this is?”

“You _do_ know what sex is, right, Hubert?” Caspar asked, earning a gentle smack to the head from his boyfriend.

“ _Yes,_ I know what sex is,” Hubert snarled, bristling. “And to answer the question you’re surely going to ask next, yes, I’m a virgin.”

“I’m not gonna flatter you and ask ‘why?’ But, for real, do you need us to give you the whole Talk shit?” Linhardt was looking progressively more horrified as he considered this.

“Well… Sort of. It’s just that… I have realized I don’t know as much as I had hoped about… certain things that have come up… And, well… you two…”

The green-haired man’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Oh, I get it! You’re here for Linhardt and Caspar’s seminar on ‘How to Please Your Trans Guy Lover.’”

Caspar was looking unusually thoughtful. “Oh yeah! Ferdinand is trans too, isn’t he?”

Hubert looked between the two men. “How… How did you know that?”

“He told us at some point, yeah?” Linhardt shrugged. “We all kinda grew up together.”

“…Right.” Hubert remembered hearing something about that before. He didn’t really remember much of his childhood other than Edelgard. It was entirely possible he had known Ferdinand at that age as well.

“You’re serious though? You want pointers from us on how to fuck your man?” Caspar always had such a delicate way of phrasing things.

“I just want to make him happy,” Hubert said, irritatingly vulnerable.

“Disgusting,” Linhardt scoffed. “Ok, you better be ready to take notes.”

Hubert, on principle, did not take notes. But it was an incredibly informative three hours.

He couldn’t wait for the next date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who read this fic, im very grateful for any attention my little passion project has gotten ;n;

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading!! tune in next time for an appearance of Present Day Ferdinand von Aegir and some weird pining and complicated emotions
> 
> comments and kudos are always loved and appreciated uwu


End file.
